Rise of the Fallen
by F12Scuderia
Summary: Long did the sons of Fëanor wait for the arrival of a daughter. Centuries later, the noble house of the Noldor rises. She came, but she was lost. *Includes characters such as Thranduil and Legolas
1. The Last Stand

_**Author's Notes:**__ Hello, I'm back with a new story. This will be my second story, this time, revolving around the characters of The Silmarillion, yet takes place in The Lord of the Rings timeline. A little romance is added at the first six chapters, but the others are pure adventure and angst. In the story, Sindarin and Quenya words are _italicized_. The respective meaning of the phrases can be found next to it. _**S**_ indicates Sindarin; _**Q**_ for Quenya; and _**Ñq**_ for Noldorin Quenya. Noldorin Quenya and Quenya are quite different to each other._

_You may be wondering why Thranduil and Legolas are included, yes? Like I said before, the story takes place during the events of the Lord of the Rings, but not during the War of the Ring itself. It's hard to explain; perhaps you should figure it out by yourself._

_Reviews are always welcome. Any suggestions and opinions about the story will be highly appreciated. Thank you for dropping by and hopefully, enjoy the story._

* * *

Rise of the Fallen: Chapter 1 – The Last Stand

_S.A. 3440_

The Second Age of Middle-earth was almost over. It will be, but not until the stronghold of the Dark Lord Sauron falls. Elves, Men and Dwarves fought against Sauron's army of Orcs. The Last Alliance was commanded by Gil-Galad the High King of the Noldor and son of Orodreth. There was Elendil also, and his sons, Anarion and Isildur. Durin IV was there. Thranduil son of Oropher was present. Along with them came Alvar, grandson of Maedhros and Tilion his wolfhound. They went to war with over 100,000 Elves, Men and Dwarves.

"_Tangado haid__! _(S. 'Hold your positions!')_"_ shouted Gil-Galad, holding his spear higher than himself.

His soldiers did what they were told. Shields were in front of them, spears on the side, and their golden-colored helms on their heads. His fellow commanders went beside him; Durin gave him a nod. Gil-Galad then waited for his comrades' approval for attack. The Orcs were surrounded in Barad-dûr. Thranduil went beside Gil-Galad, whispering: "It is time." The High King nodded and called out for his soldiers.

"_Gurth enin goth! _(S. 'Death to the enemy!')_"_ he exclaimed.

Their forces laid siege to the towers. Hours went by, but the gate was left unbreached. Many Elves have fallen, also Men and Dwarves. Years then passed. The Alliance continued to fight. Anarion's helmet crushed and he died instantly with it. No one could explain the pain and sorrow for Elendil and Isildur's loss. Elendil wept, for his youngest son fell from the battlefield. Isildur, however, remained silent. He kept to himself about his pain, but promised himself his brother's death will be avenged.

"Anarion!" Elendil cried. His held his son's dead body close to him. The others were around him, also mourning their loss. But Gil-Galad took the courage to kneel beside the King and tap his shoulder. Elendil looked up to Gil-Galad with teary eyes. He was a King, but he was also a father. He valued his sons more than anything. Gil-Galad understood, but they had to fight.

"I am sorry for your loss. I really am. But war is still upon us. We must continue," he then stood up and took his weapon. He turned back to his soldiers and shouted, _"Savo chûr an dagor! _(S. 'Be ready for battle!')_"_ The Elves reformed their lines and followed their commander. Elrond and Alvar followed next in line, and then came Thranduil and Durin. Elendil hesitated at first but he stood up and took his sword Narsil from Isildur.

"Let's go. Your brother's death will not be in vain," Elendil said as he charged with the other soldiers, catching up with Gil-Galad. Isildur nodded to himself and followed his father. Vengeance was already in his mind. "The Dark Lord will perish," he whispered to himself.

* * *

Another year came, S.A. 3441 when Sauron himself came down from his dark tower to face the army of Elves and Men. Everyone looked at the Dark Lord in terror. He was incredibly taller than any other else. He was clad in his black armor, spiky and terrible. In his left hand was a great mace, Grond, and on the other hand was the One Ring of Power. It shone bright gold in his hand. Letters were visible on the Ring but the context was a form of Black Speech.

"_Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, Ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."_

Which meant:

_"One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them."_

Gil-Galad and Elendil fought against him. But Sauron mocked them. Taking Gil-Galad by the neck, he held the Noldorin King high in the air for his comrades to see. Thranduil, Alvar and Elrond stood in shock. Gil-Galad struggled under the enemy's grasp. It was of no use. The Elves tried attacking Sauron but to no avail. Sauron laughed menacingly. He knew they couldn't do anything to stop him. He held Gil-Galad in his hand tighter. The Elf gasped for air and screamed in pain. His armor was getting crushed and his body along with it. He could feel his bones cracking.

"Gil-Galad!" shouted Elrond. _"Odulen an gin eithad! _(S. 'I'm here to aid you')_"_ He took a bow and an arrow. He fired on Sauron's direction but it was nothing. He gripped the hilt of his sword and charged. Thranduil and Alvar followed suit. Instead, the Orcs came in their way. Many of them came. It took a while for them to pass through but they were already late.

Sauron held Gil-Galad tighter. He screamed in pain. In an instant, Sauon's fist went on flame and Gil-Galad burned with it. They all watched in horror as their commander burned right in front of them. Some even closed their eyes to avoid to watching. Alvar and Elrond attempted to rush but Thranduil stopped them. It was too late, Gil-Galad was lost. Sauron dropped his body on the ground with a loud thud. He laughed again. The Elves immediately attacked the Dark Lord but were instantly killed. The three Elven commanders went beside their fallen comrade.

"_Goheno nin _(S. 'Forgive me')_,"_ Alvar whispered. He watched as Elrond tended on Gil-Galad's body. Thranduil stood beside him, silent as ever.

"We did our best," said Thranduil, "but it wasn't enough." He turned and left. Not long after, Elrond stood and went back to the battlefield. Alvar followed him.

Saruon continued to use Grond to crush the Elves within his reach. One by one, they fell, lifeless. Elendil came by the Dark Lord, held his sword Narsil and readied himself for attack. But Sauron out powered him. He fell hard to the ground and Isildur his son rushed by his side. Narsil broke as Elendil fell. That was when Isildur took his father's broken sword and used it to cut off Sauron's finger, which held the One Ring. Sauron vanquished; his helm fell on the ground and the One was left on Isildur's hands.

"It is done," he said to himself, examining the Ring.

Alvar walked towards him. He offered one hand to Isildur and helped him stand up. He held the Ring tightly in his fist and hid it. "It's over," said Isildur. Alvar nodded in agreement but a frown ran across his fair face. Isildur cocked an eyebrow and asked: "What's wrong, my friend?" Without other words, Alvar turned his head towards the direction where Durin, Thranduil and Elrond gathered. There was a small circle, Elves and Men were there also, bowing their heads low. Tilion the wolfhound howled in depression. Isildur took it as a sign. "What happened?" he asked again.

The dark-haired Elf held his gaze back to Isildur and whispered, "We lost Gil-Galad." That was all he said. Isildur quickly ran towards the circle and knelt in front of Gil-Galad. He was burned and immediately killed. They mourned, but not too long. After a while, Elrond spoke to Isildur. "The One is in your hands. It must be destroyed." He stood up and Isildur did the same. He let Elrond lead him towards Orodruin where the One Ring was forged and the only place it could be undone.

While Elrond and Isildur left, Thranduil counted how many was left from his army. Few were left but it was enough to return to the Woodland Realm. He prepared himself for departure and after that, gathered his warriors. They were willing to follow him. It was all settled. Thranduil then turned to his friend Alvar, who was affectionately petting the silver hound. It growled lightly under his touch.

"Alvar," said Thranduil. "Now that all is over, will you come with me in Greenwood?" It was rather a simple question but it has a lot of meaning behind it. Alvar paused for a while and glanced at Tilion. He was a wolfhound and a direct descendant of Huan. He understood different languages and was granted the ability to speak. Thranduil waited eagerly and patiently, although he knew Alvar won't refuse.

"I will come. There's no place left for me to dwell in. Celebrimbor my kinsman already fell. Perhaps I should now start another life, away from war," he said. Thranduil nodded in agreement. He turned his heel back to his warriors. Alvar let his eyes follow where Thranduil had just been. Turning to Tilion, he petted him once again. "Ready for Greenwood?" Tilion made no response except wagging his tail for a while. The dark-haired Elf then left to prepare his packs.

* * *

It was another hour when Isildur came back running. He was a complete mess. He looked back and continued running. Alvar and Thranduil came by him but Isildur accidentally bumped on Thranduil. They both fell on the ground and Alvar started by helping Thranduil up. Isildur quickly stood by his feet and ran away. The two Elves stood in confusion as they watched Isildur grab the nearest horse and leave. His men followed after him by foot, running as well. Durin walked towards them and asked: "What's got into him?"

Thranduil replied a shrug while Alvar turned around towards Mt. Doom then whistled. "Look who's coming," he said in a playful tone. It was Elrond, messy and tired. Sweat poured from his forehead and he arrived in front of them breathing very hard.

"Where's Isildur?" he asked.

"He was just here," said Alvar. "What happened to you?"

"He _was_ just here?" Elrond repeated.

Alvar paused. "Yes, that was I just said." His voice was evident with sarcasm.

Elrond grunted audibly. "Alvar, no! Isildur escaped with the Ring! We must find him and get it back!" Without anything else, he ran around, asking about Isildur. He was clearly in a state of horror and panic. When he finally calmed down, Thranduil came by him and tapped his shoulder lightly.

"Calm yourself," he said. "Isildur already left but we still have time to catch up to him." He gestured to his tired Elven warriors. Elrond then turned and walked towards Alvar. He looked like talking to Tilion. Elrond stopped and observed them. After a while, Tilion seemed to give Alvar a nod then ran off. Elrond followed his sight on the wolfhound. When Tilion finally left, he approached Alvar.

"What did you tell Tilion?" he asked.

"I asked him to go after Isildur and wait for us there. It'll only take a few minutes, I believe. Come on now and let's go," he said. Elrond followed Thranduil's host of Elves and left the area. "Speaking of, how did Isildur even managed to escape with the Ring?" It was meant to be a joke, and only Thranduil laughed with him.

* * *

Isildur walked slowly and quietly. Far did his horse take him and he knew his previous companions will go after him. So he slipped the One Ring into his index finger and in an instant, he vanished. The world didn't look the same way as before. _Is this what Sauron felt with the Ring_, he thought. He walked and made sure no footsteps were left behind. He followed the river Anduin and made his way back to Minas Tirith. It will be a long walk but he knew it will be worth it.

Then Isildur heard something. He couldn't make it out but he knew it was coming his way. He turned around and saw the wolfhound, running. Quickly, he crossed the river and stayed on the other side. He waited and watched as Tilion stopped on the spot where Isildur just were. The hound sniffed on the ground. He went in circles. Then he sniffed the air. Tilion cocked his head towards the other side of the river and stared. Isildur stayed where he was, not moving even an inch. Tilion stayed like that for a while, looking at nothingness. Then he howled, loud and clear. He turned and ran away back to the direction it came before. Isildur ran as fast as he could. He looked back, Thranduil's host of Elves were coming.

Tilion stopped in front of the Elf-escort. He approached his master and cocked his head again. "Tilion lost him," Alvar told them. He could see Elrond frowning at the back. "Isildur must have put on the Ring. Tilion couldn't make out even Isildur's scent." He turned to Elrond. "What are we to do now?"

Elrond dismounted his horse. "We can't just leave the ring with him. He could be corrupted!"

"I think he already is," said Thranduil, joining the conversation. "He took the Ring by his own will. He was already corrupted by the time he first laid his hands on it." The Sindarin Elf crossed his arms across his chest. He looked at his people, tired and probably hungry. Thranduil pitied them. "I'm afraid this isn't my concern anymore," he said. Elrond and Alvar looked surprised at him. "Look at them," he gestured to his warriors. "I took them to battle and it is now done. Perhaps it's best to bring them back home," Thranduil said.

"But Isildur," Elrond protested. "He has the Ring!"

But Thranduil made no more response. He mounted his horse. _"Goheno nin. Na lû n'i a-goveninc _(S. 'Until we meet again')_,"_ he said to Elrond. Elrond turned to Alvar who held his head low. After a while, Alvar spoke up: "I'm sorry, Elrond." He tapped Elrond's shoulder lightly and continued, _"Galu. _(S. 'Good luck')_"_

Alvar mounted his own horse and followed Thranduil as he led his warriors away. Tilion walked by his master. Elrond was left with his own horse, silent and tired. Then he urged his horse, towards minas Tirith. He knew Isildur would make his way there. it took only a few minutes to arrive in Minas Tirith. Men opened the gates for him and welcomed him. People started to gather around him but he looked around for any sign of Isildur.

"Where's Isildur?" he asked one of the guards.

"He hasn't come back yet, my Lord," replied the guard.

"Are you sure? Has the gate been opened before I came?" he continued to ask.

Once again, the guard shook his head. "No, my Lord Elrond. The gate was shut for a long time until you came here."

Elrond growled at himself. He urged his horse again and left Minas Tirith and its people confused. He travelled far and wide in search for Isildur, but he failed. Not long after, he returned to Imladris, his home. He decided to leave Isildur and the race of Men to their fate.

* * *

Thranduil's party of Silvan Elves continued their journey to Greenwood, Oropher's kingdom. Thranduil would then take his place as the heir of Oropher and become the next Elvenking. But Thranduil himself was not one of the Silvan Elves; he was one of the Sindar. The Silvan Elves accepted Oropher as their leader despite not being Silvan himself.

Alvar, however, was one of the Noldor. His father was Melethron, only son of Maedhros. Melethron participated in the second and third Kinslaying but finally fell during the Sack of Eregion along with Celebrimbor, his cousin. Alvar and Tilion travelled far and wide and joined in the Last Alliance of Elves and Men during the year 3430.

It took them more than a week to reach Greenwood. It was a great forest located in Rhovanion. It was beautiful and the Silvan Elves sighed in relief at the very sight of it. Not long after, another host of Elves came to welcome them. There were warriors but females also came. They led the elf-host deep within Greenwood. They soon reached the Elvenking's halls. More Elves gathered around them. Thranduil dismounted his horse and greeted his people.

Alvar looked around. It was a very long time since he had stayed in a real forest. He spent most of his time with Melethron and Celebrimbor before.

Thranduil turned to him, "How'd you like Greenwood?" he said with a smile.

Alvar returned the favor and replied, "It's marvelous."

* * *

The fall of Sauron ended the great Second Age. The next year became known as the Third Age, another century for the people in Middle-earth. It was the time when Thranduil sat on his father's throne and wore the very same crown he wore before. His people bowed before him, some even knelt. Warriors were about him and his friend Alvar by his right. Everything was already set. The newly crowned Elvenking turned to Alvar.

"Alvar, son of Melethron," he started. "You have proven your worth in battle, in experience, in wisdom and in loyalty. It is my very own decision to make you the General of the Army. Will you accept this position? Are you willing to serve and protect under my command?" Thranduil looked at Alvar thoughtfully.

There was silence in the Halls. Then Alvar spoke up: "You have my word, King Thranduil." With that he bowed. The audience clapped and cheered for their new King and General.

"Come now," said Thranduil. "There's a feast waiting for all of us!" He led his people in his dining halls; foods were set and there were cups filled with wine everywhere. The Elves took their seats but Thranduil made sure his good friend will sit beside him. Alvar sat in Thranduil's left-hand side. Tilion was there also, ever silent and obedient to his master. He would accompany him anywhere. The silver hound sat behind his master. Thranduil had also made sure Tilion have his own food and drink.

"Let's us celebrate," Alvar said. He held a great cup with wine high in the air. "For the dawn of a new Age!" Everyone cheered and drank. The Third Age has begun.

* * *

**Next Chapter Preview: **Years had already passed. Alvar still serves as the General but someone in the family wants to be just like him.


	2. Early Departure

Rise of the Fallen: Chapter 2 – Early Departure

_T.A. 1305_

"Hurry! Hurry!"

A bell-like voice rang across the room. It was a child, running barefoot on the stone-cold floor and leading her friend towards her parents' room. Tilion followed obediently. When they finally reached the room, the child opened the door and continued to shout. "Hurry! Let's go!" She grabbed a pillow larger than her and hit her father with it. Alvar groaned.

"Alright. I'm up," he said, stretching his arms and yawning. His wife sat up on the bed, yawning as well. Elanor turned to her daughter. "You look ready," she said.

Indeed she was ready. She wore her nightgown still, barefooted and her father's helm which he used during the Battle of Dagorlad. It was golden and had intricate designs on it. A small knife was belted on her waist. It was only a knife and it couldn't make too much harm. Arien referred to it as her sword. Alvar prepared himself then knelt in front of her. He gave her a smile.

"Why don't you wait on the dining table, Arien?" he said.

The girl shook her head. "No. You promised, Daddy." Alvar looked at his wife for an answer. She smiled and nodded. Turning back to face her again, Alvar sighed. He promised Arien he'll take her to the barracks of the army. She had been waiting for too long that she couldn't even rest her mind the night before.

"We'll go there after breakfast," he finally said. Arien smiled and turned to leave. Tilion followed after her. Alvar stood up and went beside Elanor. She folded the blankets and fixed the mattresses and the pillows. She combed her dark hair in silence. After a while, she spoke up.

"I thought you already hid that helm," she trailed off with a laugh.

Alvar leaned on the doorway. "She has her ways to find it. I'm never going to get that back, I'm afraid." They both laughed.

* * *

Arien waited patiently at the table. Her small sword was also on the table, just beside her plate. Once in a while, she would glance upstairs to see if her parents will come down anytime. The handmaidens offered her breakfast but she refused. The young girl rocked her feet back and forth while sitting on the chair. Tilion was still beside her, like a faithful hound he was. She petted him and he made a purring sound that Arien really liked. Tilion wagged his tail and licked his mistress' hand.

Alvar and Elanor came. They sat and let the handmaidens serve their food and drinks. But before they could even eat, Elanor noticed the sword on top of the table. She dropped her spoon and fork.

"Arien," she said. "No weapons on the table."

"But mom," she wailed. Despite her tender age, Arien already knew how to say _'no'_ to her parents.

Alvar laughed. He stopped short from eating. "Come now. It's just a small knife. It could harm nothing at all."

"Yes, I know," said Elanor. "But she's a lady. She must learn etiquette."

Alvar laughed again. "Look at her," he gestured at his daughter. "She's a warrior."

Elanor shook her head. "Now Arien, please remove the knife from the table."

Arien did what she was told. She dropped it under the table and continued eating. They were done after a few minutes. Alvar excused himself to prepare everything he needs for the barracks. Meanwhile, Arien was left in her room with her mother. Elanor grabbed a comb and attempted to remove the helm. Arien immediately stopped her mother from completely removing it.

"No!" she cried, holding the helm tightly.

Elanor was rather surprised. She knew Arien had a thing for helms and armors. She knew it came from her father, and definitely from their ancestors. Instead, she smiled warmly. "Don't worry. I'll only brush your hair, which is all." But Arien shook her head wildly again.

"No," she repeated. "Warriors don't take off their helms!"

"But there's no battle anywhere," insisted Elanor.

She had always worried about her daughter regarding these things: battles, armors, helms, swords and even 'orc-disemboweling', as Alvar and Arien call it. She had known it all ever since she could read and write. Alvar educated her all day; all about battles and wars, their family's history and their achievements, the enemy Morgoth and even Earendil's flights. She was a talented and a bright child, curious and outspoken. Alvar taught her to value life more than anything else.

Still, Elanor worried. She wanted her daughter to grow up as a nice young lady, obedient and graceful as any Elf-maiden should be. She wanted Arien to be dutiful in the house, to know all the chores and be industrious. But she knew this will never happen. Alvar feeds her mind with battles and nothing more. She worried that her daughter may die someday due to a battle she couldn't handle.

Then, Arien was convinced. She took off her helm which revealed her richly-colored red hair, inherited from her great-grandfather Maedhros. Her hair ran wildly at many directions. Elanor took the brush and combed her daughter's hair. Arien didn't move and let her mother do all the business. When they were done, Elanor let Arien run off where her father was currently waiting.

Alvar wore his armor; a light green one with silver-colored edges, intricate designs were on the helm and a dark brown cape hung on his back. His sword was on his waist and a pair of arm guards on both of his forearms. Arien approached him, running. She had her old helm ready and her small sword as well. Elanor had also made sure Arien wore something presentable for the warriors. When all was ready, Alvar turned to Elanor and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"We'll see you later," he said with a smile, taking Arien's right hand with his left one.

Elanor nodded. "Have fun. Both of you."

Arien waved goodbye to her mother as Alvar lifted her up and let her ride on Tilion's back. The three of them left while Elanor watched as they leave.

* * *

It wasn't a long walk towards the camp. Arien climbed down from Tilion's back and held the hand of her father. They entered the training grounds, excited Arien she really was. At the sight of her, the soldiers immediately gathered around her. They might be out of their character, but the soldiers were delighted to see a child in their domain. Alvar didn't mind; his soldiers needed a break once in a while. He could see Arien smiling at his soldiers. He stood back and watched, Tilion by his side. After a while, they stopped and the soldiers prepared for duty.

Arien sat on a corner. Her helm still hung loose on her head and her eyes can barely be seen. A smile was still plastered on her face, happy to see soldiers for the first time. Alvar commanded his soldiers with full authority. She watched them train and fight. The clangs of their swords were music to her ears. After a round of training, Alvar let his soldiers rest and walked towards Arien.

"How do you like it?" he asked, kneeling in front of her and adjusting her helm to see her eyes.

"This is great!" she exclaimed. The soldiers heard her and some laughed. Alvar paid no attention to them.

"Once you get older, you'll be in the army just like me. And then you'll fight Orcs and defend Mirkwood," Alvar told her. He saw a familiar glint in her eyes. "You like that don't you?" He added still. He knew Arien would agree.

The child nodded her head immediately. "I'll be just like you," she said. Alvar smiled and patted his daughter's head.

* * *

After a few hours, an Elf-guard came back running and panting. Alvar's defense went up and approached the guard. He was panting heavily, like some wild boar chased him out of the woods. Sweat dropped from his forehead and his hands were shaking. It took him a while to say anything, but at last he said: "Orcs are coming!"

Without anymore words, the soldiers grabbed their weapons and wore their helms. Alvar made sure everything was set before they take off. But he miscalculated: Arien was there. Swiftly, he turned back and saw fear on his daughter's eyes. He patted her head and whispered to Tilion. "Take her home. Make haste." Tilion sprang from his feet and swooped down to pick up the child. She held tightly on his fur and waited for her father's next words. "You'll be alright." He told her. Then Tilion ran, faster than anything known. His priority was Arien's safety. When they left Alvar's sight, he turned again to his soldiers. With a sword on his right hand, he commanded: "_Savo chûr an dagor! _(S. 'Be ready for battle!')_"_

* * *

Tilion didn't stop running until they reached their house. Elanor was already waiting outside; her hands were on her chest. She was breathing heavily. At the sight of her daughter, she ran to meet them. Tilion let Arien down and she hugged her mother. Elanor quickly led her inside the house while some of the guards remained outside for defense. Tilion was also left outside, in case the Orcs arrive, he'll be ready for battle. Elanor and Arien went inside the latter's room; the doors locked and a sword Elanor had in her hands.

"Stay hidden," she instructed Arien. The child hid herself in the corner of her room, cowering in fear.

It was a while before Tilion heard familiar noises. Orcs were coming their way. He howled very loud, loud enough for every Elf in the area to hear him. The guards prepared their bows and swords. The Orcs came running towards them, pikes in front. Tilion and the guards were outnumbered since most of the soldiers were fighting on some other place. The Orcs went down, and so did the guards. One orc attacked Tilion and the others cornered him, allowing other Orcs to enter the household.

Their handmaidens were killed. Some tried to escape but it proved useless. They scattered inside the house, breaking several figurines and pots, destroying pillows and blood stained the floor. Some had already climbed the stairs and searched in every room.

They heard the Orcs outside. Many they were and some even argued while searching around. Arien covered her ears, she was terribly afraid. Elanor could feel the same fear as hers, but she tried to be strong. She needed to be strong enough for her daughter. Then a loud knock was on the door. It was the Orcs. They knocked very loud and from outside they shouted. It took only a short time for the door to break open.

From the doorway, four or five large orcs were there. Teeth bared menacingly and swords on their hands. Elanor held up and sword she had. Shaking her hands was; she was neither a fighter like Alvar nor a weapon specialist. The orcs laughed at her. Arien stayed where she was, as silent as she could. Then she closed her eyes, tears went down as she heard swords clashing against another. She heard a loud yell of pain from her mother, but she kept silent. No longer than two minutes, Elanor fell on the floor.

That was when Arien opened her eyes again. She could see her mother on the floor, motionless. The Orcs laughed as they gathered around her. Arien was more scared than ever. She felt an urge to shout for Tilion or for anyone nearby. But it was too late. An orc found her. He gave her a horrible smile and he laughed.

"Look what I found!" he exclaimed, glancing at his companions. "An Elvish child!"

The other orcs came. She sat there, also motionless like Elanor was. Her whole body trembled before the great evil upon her. Tears went streaming down her eyes. She didn't speak, only stare at them. She didn't know what happened next after the Orcs approached her and the darkness took her.

* * *

Tilion heard a shout. He turned around and his ears picked up where the sound came from. It was from the second floor of the house, on the left side of it. Then he realized: he was too late. Quickly he ran inside and pounced on the stairs. He reached Arien's room in time to see Orcs inside. He bared his fangs and attacked the orcs. One by one, they fell with a loud thud, blood dripping from Tilion's mouth. Then he saw Elanor. He approached her and sniffed her. His ears and tail fell in sadness. Next, he heard a faint sob.

He went further inside the room. Curled up on one corner was Arien, lying on her back and sobbing. Tilion immediately went by her side. She lifted her head and a smile came across her lips. "Tilion!" the child said, standing up and hugging her friend. Relieved she was to see him, but Tilion was more regretful than ever.

Alvar came back. He saw his guards lying lifeless on the floor but it wasn't his concern at the moment. He quickly went up the stairs and entered Arien's room. He saw Elanor. He knelt in front of her and picked her up. No life was with her. He shook her, gently but surely. "Elanor," he whispered. He repeated her name over and over but she didn't move a muscle. He bowed his head very low and sobbed. _They_ had lost her. He remembered again. _Arien,_ he thought. He dropped Elanor gently and looked around the room. No sign of Arien. Then he heard soft footsteps behind him. Alvar turned around and he gasped.

Arien stood before him; the helm she wore before was still there, her hair was a mess, her clothes tattered and her face showed fear. But it wasn't the reason why Alvar was shocked. Arien lost her left eye. The left side of her head was stained with fresh blood from her eye. She cried no more, the pain seemed to have left her. Alvar rushed to her side and touched her left cheek gently. Arien flinched from his touch. The pain was still there, but not too great anymore. He regretted everything. He embraced his daughter and tears flowed down involuntarily. He blamed himself for this.

Then he released her. He pitied his own daughter, for losing an eye because of her father's recklessness. It was a good thing Tilion was there before everything was too late. The faithful hound stood behind them. Dark blood was on his muzzle and paws. Alvar nodded at him as a sign of thanks. He turned his gaze back to Arien.

"Don't worry," he said. "You'll get your eye back. I promise."

* * *

**Next Chapter Preview: **Years later, the world was left in peace. But in Third Age 2460, darkness rises again.


	3. A Feast to be Held

Rise of the Fallen: Chapter 3 – A Feast to be Held

_T.A. 1305, Rivendell_

"Don't go running off, Arien," he said, petting the tired horse.

Tilion stood beside his young mistress, making sure she won't make a run for it. As Alvar turned, two Elves came down from the stairs. Dark their hair were, and also their eyes. Identical they looked to them and were clad in armors with intricate designs. Arien smiled at the sight of the armors and helms and she felt an urge to run. Yet she stood still and waited for the Elves to come.

"Alvar!" exclaimed the first one. "Welcome!" He opened his arms wide and embraced Alvar. The second one smiled and tapped Alvar by the shoulder. Then they both bowed low before him.

"_Suil,_ Alvar," said the second one.

"Elladan, Elrohir," said Alvar. "It's good to see you."

The brothers looked at Arien. The one called Elrohir knelt in front of her and smiled. "Hello. What's your name?" Arien hesitated. She glanced at her father and he only nodded at her. Finally, she replied to him.

"Arien."

Elrohir nodded. "Welcome to Rivendell, Arien."

It was Elladan's turn to greet her. "I hope you enjoy your time here." Then he stood up and told Alvar: "Father had seen you coming. He's already waiting upstairs." Alvar nodded and patted Arien's head. She knew what he meant. She followed him and the brothers further inside Imladris. Other Elves were about them, they stared and some greeted them. Then there was a golden-haired one. He had a silver-colored armor, a sword by his waist and a white horse came by his side. He smiled at Alvar and bowed a bit. The Noldorin Elf recognized his comrade and greeted back. The golden-haired elf took notice of Arien. He knelt before her, his eyes staring at her. At length he spoke, "A warrior you will be. But many hardships you will face. At the hands of a rider cloaked in eternal night, you will fall."

Alvar flinched at what he heard. Surely, the prophecies of the golden-haired elf were always true. Yet Arien didn't understand. The elf stood up once again and gestured them to proceed. "Elrond awaits you."

They continued walking, with Arien looking back to see the elf once again. She saw him smiling at her and waving a hand, before leading his horse away. They arrived in a house, and the brothers led them in. They reached the Hall of Fire, where the Lord Elrond sat, reading a book. Beside him was a dark-haired lady, beautiful she was to their eyes. She stood up and bowed low. She gave Alvar a smile.

"Welcome, Lord Alvar," she said.

Alvar nodded and returned the smile. "Thank you, my Lady Arwen." Said lady turned and smiled to Arien. She brought her fair hand upon the child's head; Arwen came to touch the cold metal of the helm. The child in front of her smiled back.

That was when Elrond stood up. "Alvar. A long time it has been since I last saw you." He placed his book down. The brothers and Arwen left them to talk. Elrond looked at the child beside Alvar; her helm was still on her head. He recognized it. He smiled at her. "What may your business be in Imladris? Surely there was a reason for you to leave Mirkwood." He said as he sat down. Alvar let Arien sit on a chair in front of Elrond.

"I need your help," Alvar started. Elrond waited as Alvar proceeded to remove Arien's helm and eye patch. Then he gasped, like how Alvar reacted when he first saw it. The wound was still fresh. It even looked like blood still flowed from it. Elrond stoo up immediately and examined the wound. He gently caressed the area near the eye and felt the child cringe in slight pain.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Orcs attacked us over a week ago," he replied. "elanor also fell that time, protecting little Arien." He sighed deeply; the pain still lingered inside him. Elrond didn't need any more words.

"What kind of help would you like me to give you?" came his question again.

"Please heal her," he said. Elrond was rather taken aback. He had never done that sort of thing before. He didn't even know where to start. Alvar knew this look on Elrond's face; he didn't know what to do. Silence fell between them. Then he spoke again. "Please Elrond. I need her." Alvar begged him. Alvar, grandson of Maedhros, a great warrior and General of Mirkwood, on the edge of kneeling in front of Elrond. He didn't respond.

"Tell me what you need," said Alvar again.

Elrond paused for a while. Perhaps he could do something for them. "An eye, I suppose. If you're willing, I could get an artificial eye for her."

Alvar considered Elrond's offer but he shook his head. "No. Mine will do."

* * *

_T.A. 2460, Greenwood the Great_

Alvar walked around his house. Prepared he already was; armor, sword and helm. But he was not going to battle. He promised the Elvenking to help in the preparation for the upcoming feast. It wasn't an ordinary feast; it will be a big celebration and everyone was invited. Alvar was willing to help and even his soldiers. King Thranduil allowed them to rest for a while and join the merry-making. Everything was already set. But one was still messing: Arien.

"Have you seen Arien?" Alvar asked a nearby steward. The steward shook his head no. Alvar sighed in disbelief. How could Arien be late for something like this? The King was probably waiting for them by now. Then he realized that even Tilion was nowhere to be seen. He now knew where exactly those two were. He left the house and went to the backyard. There was a cabin behind their house and in front of the cabin, flowed the river.

That cabin was where Arien would spend most of her time creating helms of her own. She made armors and a few weapons. Alvar didn't mind. He supposed it really ran in the family, as Fëanor, Curufin and Celebrimbor were excellent craftsmen. When not working, she would often play the harp for her father or Tilion. She was also musically inclined, and Alvar thought she inherited it from Maglor.

Alvar opened the door. He saw his daughter admiring her newly-made helm. It was bronze in color and had intricate designs with it. Arien smiled at the sight of her father, placing her helm down and greeting him. Tilion was also inside, lying on the floor with his ears perked up.

"Hey dad," she said. She wiped her dirty hands on her skirt. Alvar examined her looks. The white dress she wore was now covered in dirt and coal dust. Her hands were filthy and her hair was a mess, as always. But she smiled at him. An innocent one, that is. Alvar shook the idea off his mind and composed himself.

"You haven't forgotten have you?" he asked.

"What now?" she threw the question back, cocking her head to the side.

Alvar sighed deeply. "We promised King Thranduil, remember?" Arien's eyes grew wide. She gasped and remembered. Quickly she grabbed her new helm and whistled for Tilion. The wolfhound got up on his paws and stretched. Arien passed her father and ran towards the house. Alvar watched her as she panicked. With another sigh, he followed Arien.

* * *

It took her a few minutes to finish preparing. She went downstairs while still combing her hair. She came walking around, barefooted. She was in a state of panic as she completely forgot about the feast. After a series of walking and running, she was finished. Alvar smiled at her. Beautiful she was in his sight. Despite his remaining eye, he could still see the beauty of his daughter. Arien approached him with a smile. A pair of bright blue-grey eyes met his one eye. He wore an eye patch over it.

Arien wore simple light blue raiment; the sleeves were darker in color and extended a few inches from her hands. Her auburn hair was combed into a small braid in front while the back portion was loose. As Arien approached him, Alvar offered his arm to her. She gladly accepted it and followed her father towards the Elvenking's halls.

There were many Elves present. Most of them carried plates or tray, some had cups on their hands, and barrels were taken cared by the Elvenking's butlers. The handmaids walked around here and there, making sure everything was ready when the King arrives. Elves from outside the halls were also there to help. Arien recognized some of her father's soldiers.

"Isn't that Bruiharn?" She pointed her index finger at the said dark-haired elf. She laughed to see him there. Alvar nodded in agreement with an amused smile and looked around.

When the crowd took notice of them, they immediately bowed before them. Alvar bowed slightly as well but Arien did nothing. She waited until the Elves continue to their duties. They did, in her relief. It was also when King Thranduil arrived. He wore a crown of leaves on his golden head. He held his head high and everyone bowed low in front of him as he passed. Behind him followed a splitting image of the King, clad in a bright silver tunic.

King Thranduil stopped in front of Alvar. "I was looking forward on seeing you here."

Alvar nodded. "Yes. I am as well."

Arien distanced herself away from her father a bit; she knew they will talk about something which was not her concern. Then the King's son went by her side, his hands were behind his back. He gave her a nod and a smile as a greeting. "I thought you wouldn't come."

She shook her head. "I was on the edge of not coming."

He laughed. "I thought you'd say that. Perhaps you were busy, hm?" Arien shook her head again. "It's a good thing you remembered, though. _Adar_ would have been very disappointed." Legolas started to walk away and Arien instinctively followed him. As they went further, both heard the voice of the Elvenking from behind.

"Where's Arien? Where's my girl?" he asked Alvar.

Arien sighed heavily and Legolas laughed at her. "You should at least greet him every time you come here." He led her again towards his father, and the King smiled. He embraced her and Arien returned the favor. Having grown at the same pace as Legolas, King Thranduil was almost like a father to her, albeit this one spoiled her more than her actual father. The moment the King released her, Arien smiled and bowed a little.

"I'm glad to see you here, _pen-vuil_," he said, patting her shoulder.

"I'm glad to help here, my King." Thranduil smiled and gestured at his son. "Now Legolas, I'll leave her in your care. I have a business to deal with. But I hope the two of you enjoy," King Thranduil said as he left.

"What did he mean by enjoy?" Arien asked him.

Legolas shrugged. "Maybe he meant the feast later this night?" He turned to her. "Or maybe he wants us to work now." He smiled at her. Arien rolled her eyes and laughed.

"Come on. Let's help them. I don't have it all day."

* * *

Legolas and Arien sat under the tree. A blanket was sprawled on the grassy floor and a basket was in front of them. Plates were there and cups and silverwares. They had just finished eating lunch. It was Legolas who brought the basket with him which came from the palace. Both of them leaned on the sturdy trunk and seemed to be in deep slumber. But Elves apparently did not sleep. They could only rest their minds with beautiful thoughts in reverie. They stayed like that for hours.

Arien then left light nudge on her arm. She opened her eyes and saw Tilion. The wolfhound wagged his tail for a second then nudged her arm again. She sat up and yawned. Legolas had also opened his eyes and looked around. They both gasped. The Sun was setting, and the clouds were colored with red and orange. In an instant, they stood up and ran back to the palace. Tilion followed after them silently. Arien laughed while she ran. "I didn't see this coming!" Legolas laughed with her as they made their way back to the palace.

Once there, both panted and were approached by one of the stewards.

"Prince Legolas," the steward said. "King Thranduil awaits you in his throne room. He's been looking for you and Lady Arien. It's best if you come and see him quick." The elf took the basket from Legolas' hands and led them to the King.

"Prince Legolas, huh?" she mused, smirking.

"Oh, don't get me started with it," said Prince replied, his own smirk present.

They were greeted by few elves as they came. Everything seemed to be in order now. They stopped by the doorway. Thranduil and Alvar talked.

"What could they be talking about? They were chatting ever since this morning," she whispered to Legolas.

"It's their business I assume. There's no need for us to know," he replied.

Their fathers noticed their presence so they came forward. It was King Thranduil who approached them first with a smile. "Where have you two been?" he asked.

Legolas answered his father. "We were outside, just relaxing."

The King nodded. "It's almost time. Hurry and prepare yourselves. And Arien my dear, I have a dress prepared for you. Kala will take you there." The maid went forward and bowed low. She gestured for Arien to follow her. She did, and Tilion followed after her, as always. Then Thranduil turned back to Legolas. "It's best if you prepare as well, Legolas." His son bowed and left.

"Isn't it nice to see our children spend time with each other?" Thranduil asked, not taking his eyes off of Legolas. "It's great to know that they're friends, like their fathers, right?" Then he turned to Alvar, who was silent throughout the whole time. "What do you think? Am I the only one excited for this?"

Alvar sighed. He knew how much Thranduil could over-react on most things. "Don't you think it's a bit early to think of _those_ kinds of things? There are lots to worry about, but not _that_."

The Elvenking shook his head. "Nonsense!" he exclaimed. "They're not as young as you think, Alvar. And I could see them a few years from now." He grinned at the thought. Alvar laughed.

"I can see them too, but not now."

* * *

Arien stared at the mirror. After a while of figuring out what to do, she left the room. The hallway stretched on for what seemed to be endless. The pillars were made of wood and vines decorated the ceiling. Tilion waited outside and wagged his tail once more at the sight of his mistress. She petted him and walked in the hallway. She looked around for anyone she knew: Thranduil, Legolas, her father or maybe just Kala or Galion. But she saw no one. Arien hesitated at first; she didn't know where to go. But Tilion went forward, leading her towards an eastern direction. They came into a doorway which led to the halls on the Elvenking, where the feast will be held.

She looked around again, seeing her father this time. He still wore his armor but his helm was already on his arm. He kept standing on one corner, looking at anyone and greeting those who took notice of him. Arien went to her father.

"You look beautiful," Alvar told her. She wore green raiment in contrast of the blue she wore earlier that day. It was fancier, coming from the King of all people.

She shook her head. "No time for compliments, dad."

Alvar laughed and hugged her. She hugged him back. They were approached by Galion the butler.

"General Alvar and my Lady Arien," he spoke. "Time to go."

The Elves entered the room and took seats. Some only stood and the others played instruments. None touched the food until the Elvenking says so. Then he entered the room, followed by his son. Everyone bowed and so did Alvar and Arien. The King went straight in front of the table and smiled to his people.

"I thank everyone who had come to this celebration. It is the celebration of the 4-century of the Watchful Peace, not only here in Greenwood but also in Arda." He held up a cup filled with wine. "Cheers." He simply said and drank. The Elves drank from their cups.

They started playing their instruments and sang and danced. Fire was about them and they danced all around it. Some partnered up for dancing. Alvar and Arien simply stood, watching them and laughing. After a while, a dark-haired Elf approached Arien.

"May I dance with you, my Lady?" he asked, offering her his hand. Arien hesitated; she waited for Alvar to say something but he only nodded. She went and danced with the Elf named Calanon.

Alvar only stayed and watched them. He was a father, and he was protective. But since it was a feast, he let Arien dance with somebody else. It seemed everyone in Greenwood knew that Alvar won't give his daughter away so easily, that was why Elves did not dare to even approach her. He wanted her to be taken cared of if he ever left her side. He wanted someone trustworthy for his daughter.

After Calanon, Legolas approached Arien. He gave her a smile and offered his hand.

"Can I have this dance?" he asked.

Arien laughed. "Of course, Greenleaf, only if you take back what you said earlier." She was talking about the discussion they had over lunch. Were Dwarves really terrible creatures? Her father told her otherwise but almost all Elves in Greenwood had great dislike of them, even King Thranduil and Legolas.

The Prince laughed. "Oh yes, that. I remember. Don't worry. Dwarves were great, not all of them were evil." He didn't mean it.

He danced with her. Legolas led their dance but he felt Arien stiffening under his touch. He knew why and he was amused. "I don't bite." He laughed quietly so that the others won't hear him. "Relax. It's just dancing."

"Don't say _it's just dancing_," Arien said through gritted teeth. "It's harder than it should be. Besides, I'm not the one for dancing. I'd rather be cooped up in my cabin making helms all day." She continued dancing with Legolas; her feet found it so hard to keep up with his. She stiffened her arms and legs again, making it hard of Legolas to move themselves.

"Come now," he whispered. "Just follow my lead: left, right, and forward then right, and turn." He turned her around and caught her waist gently and held her eyes. He tried to move themselves again, only to be stopped by Arien.

"My feet are starting to hurt," she whined.

Legolas sighed. "Here, just move your feet." He tried to move them once more, and luckily, Arien followed suit.

"See? Easy, right?"

She scoffed. "Whatever you say, Prince." Legolas disliked being called like that for a reason.

Legolas released her and held her hand. "Don't call me that, please," he whispered. He led her away from the feast, towards the terrace of the palace. She allowed him to drag her away; no one seemed to notice anyway.

But she was wrong. Alvar saw them. He watched as they left the feast. He felt Thranduil standing beside him and watching their children. Alvar turned to look at his friend, who held a grin on his face.

"Look at them," Thranduil said. "An early romance as I call it. What do you think Alvar? Is my son good enough for your daughter? Well, of course he is. It will be only a matter of time to let them know." Thranduil was incredibly amused by this, as Alvar had expected.

"I already told you: it's still early," Alvar said.

Thranduil groaned. "How could you be so serious at a time like this? But forget about that. Legolas knows what to do anyway." He laughed and left Alvar to his own thoughts. The Elvenking would entertain his guests and will try to be as hospitable as he could be.

Alvar sighed to himself as he thought of what Thranduil said. What if Arien liked Legolas from the start? They were friends, yes, but it couldn't be helped if they fall for each other. He turned to look at the direction they both went. Then he sighed, _again._

* * *

They sat on a bench. Arien placed her head on Legolas' shoulder while he leaned his head on hers. They were childhood friends, best friends in fact. They grew up in the same pace, albeit Legolas was a bit older than her. But despite their ages, they were considered young by Elvish standards. As friends, they did things together and there was no day that they didn't see each other. Legolas would often visit her in their house, or Arien was always invited in the palace to join the Elvenking and his son for breakfast or lunch. The King had grown so fond of her, like the same way as Alvar trusted Legolas.

"Why are we here again?" Arien asked, glancing at Legolas.

"I'm not sure either," he laughed. "Is there something you have in mind?"

She shook her head. "No, there's nothing. Besides, what if King Thranduil looks for us?"

"He won't. And if he will, he knows where to find us."

With that they fell silent again. They spoke no more words; they could only hear the rustle of the leaves and the howling of the winds.

"Legolas," whispered Arien.

"Yes?" he responded.

"There's a reason why you led me here. Tell me." She removed her head from his shoulder which forced him to look at her. He held her gaze for a few seconds. He only sighed and looked away. Arien cocked her head and asked again. "What is it, Legolas?" He turned at her again. He shrugged.

"It's far too early to say it," he whispered back.

Arien laughed and stood up, ruffling Legolas' golden hair. The Elvenprince laughed as well as he gently shook off Arien's hand.

"Watch the hair," he said.

They both laughed.

* * *

Alvar went downstairs. He whistled for his dark horse and mounted it. He saw Tilion coming after him with a confused look in his face. "Stay here, Tilion." He commanded the wolfhound. "Watch over Arien and make sure she stays here until I get back. If she ever insists on coming after me, don't let her. Use any methods necessary to stop her. I'll be back in a few days." He mustered his horse and went off towards the dark.

Tilion stayed where he was. Comprehending his master's words, he howled as a reply.

* * *

**Next Chapter Preview: **Alvar comes back with dreadful news. He delivers it to the King but he thinks otherwise. The General disobeys the King for the first time.

**Meanings:**

_[s] Adar_ – Father

_[s] Pen-vuil_ – Dear one

**Author's Note:** I portrayed Thranduil to be a supportive father but is still able to hold his kingdom together. Legolas, on the other hand, is a dutiful son and polite. He is friends with Arien, which makes them close with each other. So, what do you think? I hope there are no complaints. Thank you for reading. Suggestions are always welcome. Also about the dancing part, it happened to me during the prom. Stupid social dancing making my feet hurt. Anyway, reviews please!


	4. The General and the King

Rise of the Fallen: Chapter 4 – The General and the King

Tilion accompanied his mistress that night back to their house. She willingly followed and did not even realize the absence of her father. The wolfhound made her stay inside her room and rest. Arien noticed that Tilion was starting to be watchful of her. She didn't really mind but she thought something was odd. Then the next morning came, and that was when she realized something: her father was gone. Walking downstairs, she found the breakfast ready on the table and Tilion wagging his tail at her presence.

"Where is he?" she asked Tilion and the butlers. "Where's my dad?"

The wolfhound perked up his ear but made no response. He could talk, but he chose not to. Turning to the butlers this time, she asked again. "Where's my dad?" One of the butlers shook his head uneasily. Arien groaned, ran outside and went towards her cabin. Alvar may or may not be there. Her steed followed after her. But when she opened the door, there was no one. She turned again to Tilion. "Where is he?" Her temper was short but it was rare to happen. Tilion kept silent. When Arien had enough, she ran again towards the training grounds this time.

The soldiers composed themselves at the sight of Arien. Swiftly, they fell in line, weapon in their hands and minds focused. Arien examined the area: no sign of Alvar. She turned to Galanther, the lieutenant. "Is my father here? Or have you seen him anywhere?" She asked, almost begging to know where her father was. But Galanther frowned; she knew what it meant. Nodding at him and bowing at the soldiers, she made her way to the palace.

* * *

Alvar panted. He mustered his horse throughout the whole night, nonstop. It was as if something or someone was after him. It sighed in relief at the sight of the King's halls. He was near, only a few more miles. He urged his tired horse forward again and the steed didn't complain. Alvar was finally calmed and thought of things to do. He thought about Arien, how she dealt with his absence for four days. But he knew she was fine, with Tilion to keep an eye on her. He focused his mind on how to approach the King as he has an urgent message.

Elves bowed slightly at his presence. He arrived finally at the palace. He dismounted his horse and petted it for a second. Alvar nodded at the guards and entered the halls. He went straight to the Elvenking's throne, where he knew Thranduil may be. And he was there, sitting proudly like the King he was and with a smile on his lips. Alvar went forward and he realized that Arien and Legolas were also there. She immediately ran to him and welcomed him in an embrace.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed. "Where have you been? I was so worried about you!"

Alvar examined his daughter's features: she wore her favorite helm still. He ran his fingers across her hair and sighed. "I had a business to take care of. It's not done yet." He broke the embrace and looked at her eyes, the same eyes he used to own. "I have to speak to Thranduil for now. Please understand. This is urgent." He turned his gaze towards Legolas.

The Elvenprince took that as their leave. Walking towards Arien, he held her wrist and pulled her gently. "Walk with me?" he asked. She hesitated, but knowing the weight of the situation, she went with him. Legolas smiled and bowed before Alvar. He gave Legolas a quick nod and watched them as they leave.

When they were completely gone, Alvar approached Thranduil from where he sat but still kept a good distance away.

"I have news from the far South," he said. Thranduil made no response. The King simply placed his palm on his chin and gave Alvar a thoughtful look. With that he continued: "Danger is closing in on us." No reply. "Are you even listening? Greenwood is going to be in danger if we don't do anything." Alvar raised his voice a bit.

The Elvenking cleared his throat and spoke.

"And what may you be doing in the South?"

"I felt something was wrong, and I was right," Alvar replied.

"What is going in the South that we should concern ourselves?" Thranduil asked again.

"Great evil is coming. In the fortress of Dol Gulgur, shadows started to emerge. Can you not even feel it?" came Alvar's reply.

Thranduil shook his head. "Alvar, have you forgotten that our only concern is the North? Our responsibility only applies in the Northern Greenwood. We have given the Men some of our land, which makes it _their_ concern. If the evil you speak of arrive here, we'll be ready. But right now, we can't do anything."

Alvar almost gaped at what he heard. Thranduil refused to do anything.

"Why do you even worry yourself?" continued Thranduil. "What kind of evil does the South have at this very moment?"

"A great evil," Alvar said, "an evil that reminds me of the Dark Lord. It is dangerous to stay and do nothing."

The Elvenking fell silent. He seemed to be deep in thought. For a second, Alvar thought he already convinced Thranduil. But he didn't.

"It's Sauron!" he said again. "Do you remember what Sauron had done to us?"

Thranduil shook his head. "Yes, but I certainly remember what he did to your father and uncle." He was being honest. Despite that it was slightly offending, Alvar knew he was right. It was Sauron who killed Melethron and Celebrimbor during the War of the Elves and Sauron. Just like Celebrimbor, Melethron's body was shot with arrows and was hung upon a pole which served as a banner for Sauron's army. He shook the memory off his mind, concentrating on the matter at hand.

"Is that what you were worried about? Sauron?"

"This is no laughing matter."

"Yes, I know. But Sauron was long gone. He saw him perish right before our eyes, Alvar. There is no way he could come back. Not without his One Ring, that is." Thranduil shivered at the thought of Sauron's return.

"Sauron could come back anytime. We don't know the limitations of his abilities. It's best if we do not underestimate him," said Alvar.

"What if it wasn't Sauron?" the Elvenking asked. "What did you even see in Dol Guldur?"

Alvar fell silent for a moment, remembering his flight in the said fortress. "It was dark. I entered the fortress during the night, but even if it was morning, it would still be dark. I felt no presence at first, only a few rustling of the leaves and sounds of creatures. I walked even further, examining my surroundings that time. Then there was a statue, a statue of a fallen King of Men, holding a queer sword. As I walk towards it, I heard an ear-piercing scream. It came out from all directions and I covered my ears tightly. And then I saw him: a dark figure deep within the fortress, tall he was and evil. I felt the great danger upon me, which was why I left."

The General finished talking. Silence fell upon the Elvenking, who still sat on his throne in silence. He would run a finger through his golden hair once or twice. Alvar waited patiently; he could not guess what Thranduil had in mind.

"What would you have me do?" asked Thranduil, getting really tired of the conversation.

"Fight in Dol Guldur; drive away the evil and shadows that surrounds it. We must free Greenwood of this great peril while it's still early."

"Perhaps you're right," Thranduil finally said. "But I cannot risk the lives of our kin if I send them to battle now. The evil is great, yes, but the lives of our kin goes first. The South is none of our concern, Alvar. But if the evil ever crosses the Mountains, then we'll be ready." Thranduil sighed. "We cannot do anything for now."

Alvar couldn't believe what he heard. Thranduil refused. He felt frustration and he couldn't help but shot back.

"This was exactly the reason why Isildur left with the Ring before. You refused to help. You turned down Elrond, and I couldn't believe I let Elrond all by himself. I shouldn't have, Thranduil. I shouldn't have," he said through gritted teeth.

Without anymore words, he bowed before Thranduil and turned his heel to exit. But before he could leave the room completely, Thranduil spoke again: "You are wise, Alvar. Don't let that bother you for the days to come." Alvar heard this, but he continued to leave.

* * *

The General approached his horse but did not mount it. Instead, he held the reins and walked back to his house. By the time he reached the river, Alvar stopped short to take a good look on his daughter. One eye narrowed a bit, but only a bit, as he knew Legolas was with her, always. He knew Legolas since he was a young Elf, kind and polite; he always puts others before himself. Thranduil raised him by himself.

Arien and Legolas were by the river, with Tilion keeping an eye on his mistress in the further side. The two young Elves were striding along, talking matters that concern them. Alvar shook his head and left. He devised a plan regarding Dol Guldur; how the evil will leave the said fortress.

He arrived home; the butlers and handmaidens greeted him with delight. He left them with his horse, and proceeded to go towards Arien's cabin. He opened the door and it creaked as it went. Gears were sprawled on the floor, dust was in the atmosphere and chunks of iron were left on top of the tables and on the floor. Alvar picked up the iron chunks and compiled them in one corner. Then he swept the room to get rid of the dust. That was when he also noticed one helm, silver in color but was unfinished. He lifted it up to his eye level and examined it. There was a dent on the right side, definitely a miscalculation. Arien had probably given up on doing it.

After cleaning up, he went back to his house and gathered all things that he might need. Then he came back, shut the door and began working. He started by making an outline for throwing knives. He shaped it and then treating it with heat to ensure if the knife is flexible enough for cutting. He made several weapons: knives, daggers and even a few spears. He also included a few parts of the armory, such as gauntlets. After a few hours, it was already nightfall. Alvar had lined up all his finished weapons in a cloth. He admired his works; they may not be compared to Curifin's, but he was satisfied. For a while he sat in silence, thinking on a plan.

It was when Arien entered _her_ cabin. She gave her father a queer look then set her bright eyes on the weapons before her. She examined one by one, lifting one weapon after another then putting it back and giving her father another confused look. At length she asked: "What is going on?"

Alvar sighed and stood up. He picked up a dagger and held it in front of Arien.

"Do you know how to use this?"

Arien nodded.

Putting back the dagger, Alvar held up a throwing knife.

"And this?"

She hesitated, but nodded nonetheless.

Alvar shook his head. "Good," he whispered. Then he lifted the gauntlet next, holding it on both ends so that Arien could see it. "What do you call this?"

Arien could just roll her eyes at her father. "Of course, dad. That's a gauntlet."

"And do you know how to put it on?" he asked again.

She was starting to get irritated. Her father was indeed strange for the past few days. "Yes, I know. It goes in the forearm, like this.." She took the gauntlet from Alvar and put in on her forearm. She removed it and gave it back to him.

"Did you kill someone? Because you're really acting as if you've done so," Arien remarked.

Alvar ignored her last statement. "Very good," he whispered again. He piled up everything and made sure all was set. Then he turned around and took out a satchel. It was small and a strap was hung around it. It seemed to be made for the waist, and it could only carry a few things such as food and knives. Alvar gave it to her and she accepted it. "This satchel, you use it for your things." He said. Then he turned his heel and circled the room. Arien's eyes followed her father and she was confused.

"What's going on?" she asked him. But he didn't answer.

"Dad, you're scaring me. What's going on?" Arien asked again, her voice shaky with fear. Alvar stopped walking and walked towards her. He placed both his hands on her shoulders and held her gaze. Fear was present. He sighed.

"Don't be. I'm protecting you," he simply said.

"But you're giving me this feeling that you are going away," she said.

Alvar embraced her tightly. "I'm doing this to make sure you stay safe, that you can live on your own, that you are taken care of… provided for…"

She broke the embrace and looked at him straight in the eyes.

"Why? Where are you going? What is happening that is so great that you have to leave me?" Arien's voice was that of fear and anger. She was entirely confused. Never did Alvar act like this before. She knew he was scared too, at least. But he remained strong, only for Arien. He was unsure of what to do, but he could at least make sure Arien will be safe.

"Why do you do this?" she asked again. "Did something happen between you and King Thranduil?"

Alvar shook his head.

"Then tell me. You can tell me anything that no other could know," she begged him.

But Alvar made no reply. He just embraced her again and sighed deeply. "Whatever happens, never forget who you are."

* * *

**Next Chapter Preview: **Only a few days remain until Alvar's decision comes into action. How would Arien cope with it?


	5. Final Touches

Rise of the Fallen: Chapter 5 – Final Touches

Arien sighed. She sat cross-legged by the campsite; her chin rested on her palm. Her dress was covered with dirt but she didn't mind. She came with Alvar this morning to check on the soldiers. They were complete and they bowed when the father and daughter arrived. It had been about three hours ever since they came. Arien sighed again. She watched as the soldiers marched back and forth. Alvar led them with full authority; no one dared to disobey him. She was about to fall asleep when Alvar called out to his soldiers.

"That's it for today. Excellent work as always. I expect all of you to stay as you are for the next decades," he said. Some soldiers grinned while the others nodded.

The Elven-guard scattered; their training was over for today. Alvar went to approach his daughter and frowned at the sight of her sitting on the dirt. Arien quickly stood up and dusted herself. Her father picked up his helm and sword, ready to go home. She didn't wait for him; Arien already walked a few steps away from him, heading home. But she heard a voice behind.

"What's a girl doing here? Isn't she supposed to be home?"

Arien took a deep breath sharply and turned around. She held her head up as her temper rose. She saw who said that; a soldier she never noticed before, dark-haired and young for Elvish standards. His friends laughed quietly with him as the speaker laughed even more. Arien stood up front of them, arms crossed and a glare was present. The three soldiers quickly composed themselves and one even cleared his throat.

"A girl, you say? Girls aren't required to stay home all day. Why don't you gather your pride and courage and fight me?" Arien growled; her fists tightened. "Show me what you're so proud of."

But the soldier didn't move. It was Alvar who got between the two.

"What is going on here?" he asked.

"The army is not all about strength, but also discipline and respect!" Arien turned and left, her blood still boiled from the soldier. She was insulted, in fact, that soldier insulted women. It was as if he said women can't fight. Arien made a mental note to prove herself and earn respect. She already proved herself to the soldiers, especially to those who were still new and laidback.

Alvar sighed and left. He didn't mind to lecture his soldier; he was old enough to understand his mistake. When the General already left, the soldier whispered to his friends: "Who was that?"

"Are you out of your mind? That was Lady Arien! The daughter of the General! You should really know the basics. Next time, don't cross her. You wouldn't want to get in the way of her temper."

* * *

Then, a horse was heard. They looked back to see who it was. Legolas came, clad in a silver robe. Arien thought he looked quite handsome and charming. He smiled at her as he dismounted his horse.

"'_Quel amrun"_ (S. 'Good day')_,_ he greeted, placing his right hand on his chest and bowing slightly.

Alvar smiled at him. _"Lend and? " _(S. 'Long journey?)

They both laughed. Legolas then shook his head. "Not really." He turned to Arien and smiled at her. "Good morning, Arien." The said Elf only nodded and smiled at him. The Elvenprince went back to Alvar and said: "My King invites you for lunch back in the palace. He's really anticipating to eat with you."

Alvar nodded at Legolas. "We'd love to. Isn't that right, Arien?" He looked back at Arien.

She shook her head. "I don't feel like going. _Goheno nin, _Legolas." (S. 'Forgive me')

Legolas frowned. It was rare for her to refuse. Alvar fell silent for a while, unsure of what to do. Then Arien spoke again, her voice louder than before.

"Perhaps I'll go home now. Please tell King Thranduil my apologies," she said and bowed. Arien turned her heel to leave the area, but one soldier approached her. He took off his helm and bowed before her. A smile he gave her and she smiled back.

"_I eneth nîn_ _Erlan_" (S. 'My name is Erlan'), the Elf introduced himself. "If I may, I'd like to escort you back home, my Lady Arien."

She held back; it was as if something was telling her to ignore the soldier and walk away. But she thought it would be too rude to refuse him, as she already refused Legolas. Taking a deep breath, she smiled and nodded. Erlan smiled and gestured for her to walk. She did and he walked beside her. Tilion was beside his mistress, always tireless of watching over her. Alvar and Legolas waited until Arien and Erlan were out of sight.

"Erlan, I see," Alvar murmured amusingly to himself. Legolas couldn't help but hear him.

"Erlan?" he repeated.

The General nodded and looked at Legolas. "Yes, he's one of my soldiers, a silent and brave one. Quite young though. I think he fancies Arien."

Legolas nodded again. They started to walk back to the palace and he held his horse's reins.

"I see," the Prince whispered.

"And I couldn't help but notice…" Alvar spoke again. "Do you like Arien?"

That question had struck him like lightning. Legolas stopped instantly from walking and literally gaped at Alvar. He almost dropped the reins he was holding. He couldn't believe Alvar would ask him something like that. The said Elf only stood a few steps in front of Legolas, giving him a confused look. He waited patiently for Legolas' answer; he knew that Legolas was very much surprised. Legolas composed himself, cleared his throat and started to walk again.

"To be honest, I do like her," Legolas said, almost like a whisper. "But I wouldn't want to rush things out. Arien is still my friend; I don't want her to feel different when she's with me. I was planning to tell her, my father already knows that, but I wouldn't want to sound so aggressive towards her." He finished with a deep sigh. He confessed to Alvar, her father. Everyone knew how much Alvar was protective of Arien. Legolas waited for a reply. It took a while, but it was worth it.

"I have nothing against you, Legolas. The choice only lies to Arien, if she chooses you or not. I trust you, I trust you that you will take care of her," he said. "Can you promise that you will take care of her, especially when I'm gone?" Alvar trailed off, a slight fear was evident on his voice.

Legolas knew something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what it was.

"Of course I would," he said. "I'll protect and cherish her."

Alvar smiled and tapped Legolas' shoulder. "It's good enough for me."

* * *

Arien and Erlan arrived in the house. Erlan bowed again.

"_Na lû n'i a-goveninc"_ (S. 'Until we meet again')_,_ he said. Arien smiled and Erlan left.

She made her way towards her cabin, Tilion following her as usual. She shut the door behind her and busied herself with things. Her father's words last night bothered her. What could he mean by those things that he said? He wanted her to be safe and cared of and prepared things for her. Alvar was indeed strange ever since he left that night. Where could he have gone?

Turning to Tilion, she looked at him with serious eyes. The wolfhound perked up his ears and waited his mistress to talk. Arien stared at him for what seemed to be forever. Tilion was starting to get uneasy. Even though he was a hound, he could still understand everything. At length, Arien finally spoke with a voice full of threat.

"Tell me what's going on, and don't pretend that you can't understand me," she demanded.

But Tilion made no response. He returned the gaze of his mistress and slumped his head back. Arien sighed deeply as she rolled her eyes. Tilion was no help at all. She hugged her knees and buried her face on it. She groaned audibly, unsure of what to do. Her mind kept running and running about her father and his strange behavior. She wanted to ask someone; she wanted someone she could talk to. But Tilion refused to say anything, acting as if he heard nothing. It frustrated her.

* * *

Legolas and Alvar finally arrived at the halls. The guards bowed before their Prince and General. Legolas immediately led Alvar into the dining halls, where he thought Thranduil was probably waiting for them. And there he was, the Elvenking, talking to one of the high-ranking Elves. Seeing that his guests had already arrived, Thranduil dismissed his friend and walked towards them. He held a smile upon his face and his arms were wide to welcome them.

"Alvar!" the King exclaimed. "It's good to see you again, although I knew you wouldn't refuse." Then Thranduil looked around. "Where's Arien? Where's my beautiful girl?"

Legolas shook his head. "She didn't come with us. She probably had something to do; but she sends her apologies to you."

Thranduil frowned for a second. Then gesturing his arms, he led them to the table. He sat on the center, with Legolas on his right and Alvar on the left side. Handmaids arrived to serve them their foods and drinks. Other Elves were there, playing musical instruments like flutes and harps, on one corner of them room. They played a gentle melody, incredibly pleasing for the ears of any Elf, Man or Dwarf. They ate in silence for the most part; both Thranduil and Alvar avoided in talking about Dol Guldur or anything related to it. Legolas, for his part, was confused.

After lunch, Alvar thanked and bade farewell to both Legolas and Thranduil.

"You're welcome to come here anytime, Alvar," said Thranduil as the General left.

* * *

Arien left her cabin with Tilion and headed straight back to their house. She was hungry. The butlers served her food. Little she ate, and gave the rest of the food to Tilion. After her short snack, Arien went upstairs. Then her father arrived. She watched him as he handled his helm to a butler and removed his heavy dark red cape. Alvar looked around in search for Arien.

"Where is she?" he asked.

"Lady Arien is upstairs, my Lord," answered one of the handmaids.

Alvar nodded and gathered all his butlers, guards, handmaids and everyone else. Unknown to them, Arien watched from upstairs and listened intently for what Alvar had to say. His servants were nervous; they thought something was wrong. They held their heads low and kept quiet. But Alvar laughed it off, which caused the servants to be surprised.

"Don't worry," he started. "I wanted to thank you for all your services. All the years you've spent in our house, doing all the work and making sure everything was set. If it weren't for all of you, then I don't know where Arien and I would be. For the years I have rewarded you all generously, and if something occurs, I would like you to continue living here. Take care of Arien; you know how she is at times."

They laughed quietly. "But then again, _gûr nîn glassui_." (S. 'I thank you from my heart')

Alvar bowed his head low and his servants did the same. It was as if he was saying farewell to them. Arien sighed and retreated back into her room.

The door was opened before her and she entered; a lamp shone brightly inside it. Blue light it emitted, which shone like a crystal under the Moon. It was made in Valinor and neither water nor air can quench its marvelous light. The lamp was made by Fëanor himself and was therefore called Fëanorian lamp. Those who were captured by the Dark Lord used theses lamps to give light during their time in the mines. Only few possessed it, mostly the Noldor and of course, the sons of Fëanor. One remained in the House of Fëanor, and they treasured it greatly. It was kept inside Arien's room, to refrain shadows from entering the said room. Alvar placed there, for when Arien was young, she feared darkness.

She lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Her mind rummaged in many things and not long after, her heart and mind were confused. She wanted someone to talk to. But who? Tilion would not speak to her, not a word. Not even her father who started the problem. Again, she grumbled and threw a pillow on the direction of the lamp. It fell on the floor and the light flickered, yet it was not gone. Swiftly, she got onto her feet and examined the lamp. It was alright, as if no harm was done. Sighing, Arien put the lamp where it was and picked her pillow. She hugged it and started to drift off into a reverie.

She woke up a few hours later. Yawning and stretching, she looked out of the window to see the Moon shining. She got up to her feet and in an instant, Tilion held his head up. Arien held up her right hand.

"Stay here," she said. "And I mean it."

With that she went downstairs, as quietly as she could. She opened the door slightly and it creaked. Arien flinched at the sound, but no servant came to see what it was. She made a run for it and headed towards the edge of the river.

River she also loved, as she often sang her songs by its edge. There she sat, hugging her knees once more and humming a tune to ease her mind. She watched as the water flowed down the stream and she could see fishes beneath the water. Arien placed a finger into the water and she felt its coldness. She shivered. That was when she realized it was a cold night. Yet she didn't mind it. She was frustrated because of everything. She hated how much her father kept secrets from her; how much he said thing as if it was the end. She felt the fire inside her growing hotter by the second. Tears started to well in her eyes. Arien tried to fight it back, but next she heard sobs. She felt like crying, but she held back.

After a while of silence, a voice spoke from behind her.

"Arien?" it called her.

Arien spun her head around. It was an Elf in green and brown tunic. She recognized him.

"Legolas."

The Elvenprince stood there, just watching her. Unable to control her emotions, Arien ran up to him and hugged him tightly. Legolas was surprised at first; but when he heard Arien's muffled cries, he felt worry and concern for her. She buried her face on his chest and she cried. Legolas felt his clothes becoming damp but he ignored it. Her hands were on his shoulder, holding him very tight and close to her. Legolas ran his fingers on her hair while the other hand held her waist. His nose touched her hair and it smelled like flowers. He wondered why, of all things, would be Arien crying by the river at this time of night.

Legolas broke the embrace. He held her face up and saw her tears, still coming out of her eyes. He felt very sad for her although he still didn't know the situation. Arien sniffed and sobbed, holding back her tears again. Legolas caressed her cheek and used his thumb to wipe the tears. Then he hushed her.

"Don't cry now," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "What's wrong?"

Arien closed her eyes. "It's my father," she forced herself to say. Her voice was shaky. "I'm afraid to lose him."

"No, you're not going to lose him," he replied as he held her hand. "Stop crying, would you?"

But she didn't. Tears continued to come. He felt guilty. Arien embraced him again, gentler this time. She sighed deeply as Legolas placed his arms around her once again. She felt safe with him, and loved most of all. Legolas hummed a tune to soothe her out. It worked. After a while, they sat in the edge of the river but Legolas still had his arms around her. He dared not to let go, not until she orders him to do so. She cried no more and he was glad.

"Legolas."

"Yes?" he turned to her. She was playing with his hand, intertwining their fingers. Legolas smiled at this and he moved closer to her. Arien felt it.

"What would you do I leave?" she asked and avoided any contact with his eyes.

"You wouldn't do that," he said.

"Why not?"

"Because I know you, Arien. No matter what happens, you'll always be here. This is your home," Legolas replied.

A smile she gave him. Without other words, Arien kissed his cheek and stood up. "Will you take me back home?"

Legolas stood up as well and dusted himself. He held her hand and started to stride off.

"_I 'ell nîn" _(S. 'It is my pleasure')_, _hesaid_._

* * *

**Next Chapter Preview: **Alvar leaves again without Arien's approval. At the dead of night, a cloaked rider follows him.


	6. Spirit of Fire

Rise of the Fallen: Chapter 6 – Spirit of Fire

Alvar held Arien's hand as he led her back into her room. It had been a night after she ran away and cried in front of Legolas. Her father was, of course, unaware of this. Alvar held her hand tightly. When they finally reached her room, Alvar let her go and hugged her. He sighed deeply, inhaling his daughter's flowery scent and running his hand on her dark red hair. She simply hugged him back, waiting for him to let go and bade her goodnight. Alvar did. He kissed her forehead.

"'_Quel du, sellig. Amin mella le,"_ he whispered and kissed her forehead again. (S. 'Good night, my daughter. I love you.')

"_Amin mella le, ada,"_ she whispered back, her voice a bit shaky. (S. 'I love you, Father.')

Alvar took this as his leave. The General turned his heel and went towards his own room. Arien did not wait for him to leave her sight; she immediately entered her room and shut the door. The same lamp welcomed her always. Tilion was already inside, lying on the mattress on the floor. Arien sat on her bed, thinking carefully. Her hound friend watched as she was still. But after a few minutes, Arien proceeded to rummage on her wardrobe.

She took out a dark blue cloak, another blue cloth and a satchel. Then she piled them on her bed and went to fetch her weapons. She only took a few: a pair of knives and a bow and quiver. She continued to fetch her armor: dark-colored breastplate, gauntlets Alvar made, the pauldron had four layers and leather-like material was inside. She made it for herself, due to her spare time. Arien draped the cloak around her and fastened it with a bright-colored clasp. Taking the other cloth in her hands, she wrapped the lamp inside and fetched her weapons. When she thought everything was ready, Arien left her room.

* * *

Alvar mounted his horse and it neighed gently. He hushed the horse and petted it. He looked one more time on the room where Arien was, then urged his horse to leave. Alvar took only a few things with him: weapons, water and food. He made sure the baggage was not so heavy for his steed. He left with an uncomfortable feeling. He passed the Elvenking's halls, and there he saw several Elven-guards. Alvar held the reins tightly and left for the South. The winds rustled as he rode on his horse, silent as a grave. At first he thought someone was following him, but there was none behind him.

He thought about Arien. Once she finds out he was gone, she would be definitely sad. Alvar knew her pretty well, and he knew Arien would come after him. But he trusted Tilion. He regretted leaving her, but he had to do this. He couldn't forget his flight in Dol Guldur a few days back. He couldn't let the evil reach Greenwood, its people and his daughter.

* * *

Arien dismounted Tilion. She stopped on the side of the palace, near Legolas' room. It was at least two storey's high. She looked up and waited, a light came from his room, but only a faint one. She looked back at Tilion and gestured him to stay and wait for her. Then Arien climbed up the building and entered the terrace of his room silently.

The curtains were swaying by the wind. It was made of fine silk and was colored white. Arien peeked from it; there she saw Legolas, lying on his bed. She knew he wasn't asleep. Sighing to herself, Arien forced herself to clear her throat enough for Legolas to hear. He did, and he flinched. He thought his mind was playing but it wasn't. The Elvenprince immediately sat up from his bed and went towards Arien.

Legolas gave her a curious look. He was wondering what she could be doing at his room at the dead of night. She was wearing her cloak around her and her hood was upon her head. Arien held her head low, unable to think of anything to say to him. She couldn't possibly tell him her reason; she just wanted to be there. Legolas reached out for her hand and it was her turn to flinch. That was when she looked at him and answered his curious gaze.

"Arien," he breathed. "What brings you here?"

"I have something to tell you," Arien trailed off with a sigh. She was unsure of what to say.

Legolas laughed silently. "What is it now?"

"I'm serious, Legolas," she said sternly, her eyes were on the floor.

Judging from her voice, Legolas knew she wasn't joking around. He sighed. Arien had a lot of problems lately. He gestured for her to enter his room but she stayed where she was.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

"Something has occurred," she started. "I'm afraid I'll be gone for a while. Me and Tilion, that is."

There was silence. It was as if her statement didn't sink into his mind. At length he spoke again.

"What has occurred?" Legolas had a bad feeling about this.

"I can't tell you. I just wanted to let you know."

"Why?" came his question again.

"Because I don't want you looking for me," Arien replied, her voice rising quite a bit.

Legolas was silent.

"I'm here to say goodbye," Arien spoke again.

"Tell me why."

Her temper was rising by the second. But she kept calm, understanding Legolas' situation. She shrugged and shook her head. Legolas held her hand, gently.

"If I leave, will you wait for me?" she asked. She didn't want to leave him, but she had to.

Legolas smiled weakly. "Yes, of course. I'd do anything for you."

Arien nodded slowly. Tears began to sting her eyes and she wouldn't let him see this. She kept her head low once again. But when Legolas spoke no more, Arien lifted her head up and planted a swift kiss on his lips. She turned around as quickly as she could to leave but Legolas pulled her back.

He embraced her and sighed.

"Finally," he said. "After years of waiting, it has finally come." Arien laughed. "My father would definitely be glad when he hears this."

Arien took a step backwards. Legolas, in turn, was confused was again. Then he remembered what she said a few moments ago.

"Do you really have to go?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Can I come?"

Arien was surprised. "You can't!" She immediately responded. She didn't want to risk his life in the first place. She wasn't even exactly sure what she was going up against. All she wanted was to know what bothered her father so much that he had to keep secrets from her, that he had to leave without her permission. If all came down to fighting, then she would fight. But Legolas couldn't come. What would King Thranduil say?

Legolas nodded. There was sadness in his eyes. Arien smiled for him and embraced him again. He wrapped his arms around her.

"I have to go. Tilion is waiting for me," Arien said as she broke from the embrace.

Casting her dark hood over her head again, she smiled at Legolas as he went forward to help her get down from his room. Before finally leaving, Legolas gave her a reassuring smile.

"Please, be back safe," he whispered.

Arien smiled back and jumped off. She landed on the ground with a soft thud. Tilion went beside his mistress and picked her up. Arien mounted her friend and looked up at Legolas. The Elvenprince smiled weakly at her, trying to conceal his sadness upon her leave.

"_Namárië,"_ she whispered and left. (Q. 'Farewell.')

* * *

Alvar turned left. He already reached the mountains of Greenwood. It had been only four hours after he left the Elvenking's domain and he travelled nonstop. His horse could run all day without any stops at all, as he was an elf-steed. Alvar clutched the cloak around him and yawned; he was starting to get drowsy. His horse continued to gallop and circled around the mountain. Alvar heard creatures every once in a while; he even heard some noises unknown to his ears. This brought up his defense. He held a hilt of his sword and observed his surroundings. Despite living in Greenwood for thousands of years, he never left Thranduil's domain.

It wasn't that long when he arrived on the Old Forest Road. Like its name suggests, the road was old and was made earlier during the Second Age. Alvar thought maybe it were Dwarves that made the road for easier way of travelling or crossing the dense forest. Alvar looked left and then right; no sign of anything. The Road was dark and silent; he could barely see things even with his elf-eyes. Alvar then mustered his horse forward, but the steed hesitated. It took his a while to convince the horse. He went on and on. After he crossed the Road, he heard a familiar rustle. It wasn't an ordinary one; someone was following him.

Alvar dismounted his horse and held the hilt of his sword. He took it out of its scabbard and pointed it towards the shadows. Then he threw himself into the bushes. There he saw them. Tilion had his rear facing Alvar, tail was straightened and still. The General looked up to its rider: a cloaked one with a slender build. Even with his eyes closed, Alvar knew who it was. The rider turned around and her eyes widened at the sight of Alvar.

"You're not supposed to be here!" Alvar exclaimed as he grabbed Arien's wrist and forced her to dismount Tilion. Arien almost fell from where she sat and she could feel pain in her wrist. Alvar held it tightly. He sheathed his sword back and forced his daughter to look at him. "Why are you here?!"

Arien was taken aback. Never did Alvar shouted at her like that; it scared her. She was left speechless. Then Alvar released her and went to Tilion. He was terribly mad and Arien knew he would blame Tilion for this. The wolfhound bowed his head and his ears were low. Tilion sounded like he was whimpering, a sound Arien didn't hear for a long time. Alvar stopped in front of Tilion.

"I ordered you to make Arien stay put! How could you bring her into this mess?" Alvar exclaimed sternly.

Tilion whimpered in his guilt.

"I forced him to take me," Arien blurted out from behind. This caused Alvar to turn. His eyes were menacing and every breathe he took was heavy. Arien was nervous but she held her ground and her head up. She had come this far; no way was she going back.

"This is dangerous, Arien. You can't just come and go!" he said.

Arien shook her head. "I know! I just want to learn. I want to know what bothers you so much. You can't keep me locked up inside the house when you already thought me how to fight. You can't expect me to just sit in my room, waiting for you to come home every day. You can't make me visit Legolas in the palace and stay there all day while you were out. I want something different for a change, Father."

Alvar fell silent.

"I remember what you used to say: I'm a warrior. But ever since _that fateful day_, you never mentioned it anymore. I know you're only trying to protect me, but I'm not a child anymore. I can hold my ground; if not, I could still learn, but not inside the house."

It was when Alvar nodded in understanding. He went back to his horse as Arien and Tilion followed after him. When they were ready, Alvar noticed the dark cloth strapped around Tilion's neck and torso. A faint light came from it and he couldn't help but wonder.

"What is that?" he asked, pointing a finger towards the said cloth.

Arien looked at it and replied, "The Fëanorian lamp."

Alvar grinned. "It's a good thing you brought that here. Our flight will be too dark."

"I thought so," she replied. Alvar had already gone forward, and Tilion did the same. At first, their steeds only walked.

"What are you up against?" she asked again, curiosity finally getting her.

Alvar was silent for a while, thinking of the best words to say, but none was good enough.

"Orcs? Warg-riders? Trolls? Or stone giants? A Balrog, perhaps?" Arien enumerated the possibilities.

"It is more than that," said Alvar. "This is beyond your comprehension and imagination, Arien. Our enemy that we thought perished a long ago might be the One. I'm not exactly sure if it was Him; but if he was, then I'll be seeing a familiar face, that's for sure." He smiled but deep inside; he mourned. He remembered the deaths of his family members: his father Melethron and uncle Celebrimbor, and Gil-Galad was there also. His friends Anarion and Elendil also fell. It hurt him.

Arien was more curious. "Sauron, you say? I couldn't say I'm excited to see him, nor am I afraid of him. But we'll see." She smiled. Alvar nodded and urged his horse to run. Tilion and Arien followed after him, with Alvar calling back to Arien.

"You have the Spirit of Fire after all."

* * *

**Next Chapter Preview: **Darkness falls upon Arien and Alvar. He ventures in the dark fortress but then encounters the enemy he _expected_ to see.


	7. Flight in Dol Guldur

Rise of the Fallen: Chapter 7 – Flight in Dol Guldur

It was roughly two days ago when Alvar allowed their pair to rest in the southeastern part of Greenwood, called the East Bight. It was a treeless region and it was the Northmen who occupied the area. As was said before, Alvar let them rest; rather, he let Arien rest for a while. He had been going on nonstop, almost unaware of Arien's presence. The girl barely caught up; she was exhausted. Alvar thought that it would be better if Arien stayed at home, safe. But she insisted.

The East Bight looked almost like a barren wasteland; no creature came by there and silence was about it. Arien felt uncomfortable there but nonetheless took her time to rest. It was Alvar who stayed up all night to watch her.

It was then another two days when the pair finally arrived some few miles from Dol Guldur. Alvar insisted that they stay away from the dark fortress. They made no sound, no fire, nothing. They waited until the darkness of Dol Guldur pass, but it didn't. It was always dark above the fortress and nothing was heard except the chattering of some animals. They camped behind an old and tall oak tree. They laid their baggage beside it as Arien tossed herself to catch her breath.

"Now listen here, Arien," started Alvar while rummaging through his stuff.

He took out a white cloth with an obviously hidden material under it. Arien slowly crawled her way to her father and fixed her blue-grey eyes on the cloth. Alvar held it with great care, as if it was fragile and delicate. Her father drew a deep breath and almost hesitated to speak. But Arien waited; this was probably important. Alvar then sat in front of her, still holding the cloth in his hands.

"Arien," he said again. "Do you remember Maedhros?"

She shook her head. Of course. How could she forget her own ancestor?

"Of course, you do," said he. "This was an heirloom, dating way back during the Years of the Trees. This sword was made in Valinor by Curufin, due to the request of Maedhros. It was Curufin who designed the sword and Maedhros valued it greatly. It was not kept in Formenos, but in Maedhros' chamber. He took it always with him and was later taken in Middle-earth during the First Age. Before Maedhros died, he passed this to Melethron his son and then to me. Now, it's your turn to have this. This sword was made for you; Maedhros had it made especially for you. It was because the Sons of Fëanor really wanted to have a daughter."

It was when Alvar took out the sword. Silver was its blade and its edges were almost grey. A bright jewel was located at the center on the blade, near the hand guard. The hand guard had intricate designs; a red fire-like hand guard trimmed with gold. Its scabbard was made from thick and heavy metal, also red and had golden patterns carved on it.

Arien held it in her hands, the weight was that she didn't imagine but it was beautiful in her eyes. She examined the sword and ran her fingers across the blade carefully. It was polished well and it seemed like the sword was never used. Following the jewel, it had Tengwar written vertically. It was carved and looked like silver.

"_Arien Silevril,"_ she read the script out loud. Then she stopped. "Arien Silevril? Why is my name here?"

Alvar smiled. "I told you the Sons anticipated for a daughter. Despite all the wars before, they wanted to have a great family, but there was no time for that. Instead, they made a sword for their daughter, if she was ever going to arrive. Maedhros wanted to name that daughter Arien Silevril: _Arien_ was taken from the Sun's maiden while _Silevril_ was the Silmarils' Quenya name."

Arien nodded. Then her eyes came upon the bright jewel on the center of the blade. It was transparent and it contained an eight-rayed silver star: Fëanor's heraldic device. She looked at it for a long time, the Alvar spoke again: "Fëanor also took part, and added the jewel located on the center."

She smiled. "It seemed everything was prepared, wasn't it? Did they really want me to come?"

"More than you can ever imagine," said Alvar. He stood up. "You should take care of it now. Maedhros and Melethron watched over it, even I did. That sword never saw battles, for Maedhros intended for you to slay the first one. That's why it was kept, and named _Erelom, _the Iron-hide." He petted Tilion and handed him a piece of meat. The wolfhound did his business and ate. Alvar went up again and sat beside his daughter.

"This is amazing," she sighed. "Thank you for this."

Alvar nodded. "You better use that for good purposes. True courage is not about knowing when to take a life, but when to spare one." With that he stood up again and went for his own sword.

* * *

Almost ten minutes had passed ever since Alvar left for the fortress. Arien sat reluctantly by the tree with Tilion beside her. She remembered what her father told her before he left: "You stay here. If I'm not back within fifteen minutes, you leave and head back to the North. Tell king Thranduil about this." Only five minutes remain. Arien shifted herself uncomfortably while still having Erelom in her hands. Ever since she got it, she never took it out of her sight. A few moments came by. Tilion perked up his ears and lifted his head, looking towards the dark fortress. Arien took it as a sign and stood up. The wolfhound also stood and turned to face his mistress. But to his surprise, she was gone. Tilion still heard the leaves rustle only a few steps in front of him. Arien ran away.

She panted and pushed away from tree branches out of her way. Then she saw a flight of stairs, leading to the entrance of Dol Guldur. She hesitated; but her father was inside, so she was going after him. She clutched Erelom's hilt and ran upstairs. Arien found herself in a long hallway. She walked carefully but hastily. When she was finally inside, Arien looked around.

There were statues around, old and broken. Debris was on the floor and dried leaves were swept away by the air. It gave her the creeps. Arien walked forward again, wondering where her father could be. She came across a large statue. It towered over her and was dark and ruined. Only a little part of the face was left. It looked like a Man during the old days, a King in fact. Her attention was drawn greatly to it. Arien stepped closer towards the statue, eyes examining its face. Then she heard a faint sound. It pierced her elf-ears, as if death was shouting right at her. She whimpered in pain for a while but as soon as the sound stopped, she composed herself.

"What was that?" she asked herself.

Tilion arrived by that time. He still had the Fëanorian lamp, kept in a dark cloth, draped by his neck and torso. As quiet as ever, he went to his mistress' side and gave her a threatening look. Arien didn't mind; she only walked again. They came by a long and dark tunnel. Arien peeked through it and despite her eyes, she could barely she anything. Turning to Tilion, she said will full authority.

"I will go first."

With that she went inside. Tilion was reluctant. When he saw Arien almost halfway inside, he followed. Long did they walk inside; a faint glimmer came from the lamp as Arien touched Tilion's head. It assured her to know that someone was with her. Silence fell and soon light emerged from the other side of the tunnel. Arien covered her eyes for a second until it could adjust to the light. It wasn't exactly a light, only a dim one which came from the sky.

Arien was surprised. Eight more tunnels were there. She went on the center of what seemed to be a courtyard and looked around. The tunnels were darker and seemed longer than the last one. There was no sign of Alvar, not even anything else except silence. It really scared her. Tilion went by her side, nudging her to leave the area.

"I will not leave without my father. You can wait for me outside."

Another scream came. It was louder than before which made them both cringe in pain.

"Make it stop!" she cried.

The scream _did_ stop. It took a while for Arien to compose herself. It gave her a massive headache. She stood up and looked around. There was still nothing. She attempted to enter one of the tunnels; the one right in front of her but Tilion immediately tugged her cloak. He bit the end of her cloak gently yet forcefully and he gave out a whimpering sound. Arien knew he was only trying to protect her. Tilion took a small step backwards which forced Arien to take one too. She almost fell out of balance.

"Don't_,_ Tilion!" she commanded.

A shout then came from one of the tunnels. They both stopped and waited. From the northeastern side, footsteps were heard. Arien took her sword out as Tilion went in front of her and growled. Out from the tunnel came Alvar, sweating and panting. Fear was evident in his eyes. And he became more scared when he saw Arien. Quickly he went by her and grabbed her hand, and ran towards the other tunnel. Arien was surprised for Alvar said nothing. But before they could even reach the tunnel, Alvar stopped short.

He glared at the end of the tunnel. He slowly backed away, still holding Arien's wrist. A sharp neigh of a horse came from the other end. But Arien could see nothing. Alvar turned around to find another way out but also stopped. From the other eight tunnels came out Black Riders; their steeds were black and their cloaks were black as well. Their faces couldn't be seen and armor they wore also. Arien's eyes widened at the sight of the Riders; but more specifically, to their armor.

"Wow, look at that armor," she whispered.

Alvar could feel himself rolling his eyes as he slowly shielded himself for Arien. Tilion bared his fangs menacingly at the Riders. They slowly lined in front of them, silent. Alvar took a step backwards again, leading to the tunnel where they entered. He looked back; one of the Riders was there also, waiting. He thought of a plan of escape. Understanding the weight of the situation, Arien felt terrified in front of the Riders. She cowered behind her father, waiting for him to make a move. Long did they stay like that; none of either side was going to move any time yet.

Alvar pointed his sword to the eight Riders. "Run!" With that he dragged Arien towards the tunnel behind them as Tilion charged at the other eight. The wolfhound held them off; growling, biting and clawing. Alvar readied his sword to attack the Rider in front of them. When they were finally out, he threw himself towards the Rider. He attempted to stick his weapon to the enemy, but it was no avail. He struggled and panted; the Rider will not fall so easily. Arien watched as her father fought in front of her. She held Erelom tightly, but did not fight. She felt an urge to fight, but there was also another that tells her not to.

"Run!" shouted Alvar.

Tilion came out from the tunnel. He was followed by the eight Riders and he spun around to attack them. Arien felt worthless. Sighing to herself, she charged on one of the Riders; the one attacking Tilion by his side. She missed her first attempt but nonetheless, continued. The weight of her sword was still great in her hands; she could barely even lift it. She tried again, and again.

The Rider, seemed to be tired of her, dismounted his steed and unsheathed his terrible blade. It was the same blade as the one the statue had before. Arien panted as she tried to lift Erelom. The Rider gave out another ear-piercing scream and Arien writhed in pain. The Rider took this as his advantaged and attacked her. He plunged his blade towards her. Despite the pain, Arien managed to deflect the blade. But due to the strength of the Rider and Erelom's weight, Arien was thrown to the ground with a loud thud. The Rider charged at her again, making sure this Elf would not stand any longer. But Alvar came just in time to push the Rider away. He pulled Arien back to her feet and held her shoulders.

"Are you alright?" She nodded. "You came for this, didn't you?" Alvar asked. "Well, now it's your time to fight. Get your head in the battle and show me what you can do." He ran away to attack. Arien closed her eyes, comprehending what her father said. When she opened her eyes again, she lifted Erelom and attacked.

Arien attacked one that was fighting Alvar. She whipped her blade towards the Rider's head and she felt a solid form inside the cloak. The Rider screeched and she fell in pain once more. Alvar then stopped from fighting; he saw what happened. Then he remembered: Swords made by Elves during the First Age could touch the Riders. Erelom was the key. He tried to fight his way back to Arien but many Riders were about him.

She opened her eyes. The Rider was slowly walking towards her. Arien stood up, panting. Her opponent took out a great mace and it looked like it had great strength.

"I'll fight you," she said, gulping down the fear that came with her.

The Rider let out a sharp hiss. And then she heard another voice, not from the Rider or any of them, but from deep within the fortress.

"_Arien… Silevril…"_ the voice whispered.

Arien stopped and looked around. The voice was unfamiliar to her. It didn't come from the Riders. From the main tunnel, she saw shadows forming into what seemed like a figure of a man. It was tall and dark. The shadow's arms seemed to be reaching out for her. Arien was frozen from where she stood; never did she feel so much fear.

"_Arien…"_

* * *

Tilion let out a loud howl. It was of pain, no doubt of it. Arien turned around to see her friend, barely standing up and bleeding. She ran towards him and examined his wounds. He was wounded by the Riders' blade. Fresh blood trickled from his neck and arm. Arien tore a section of her cloak and pressed it on the wound.

"You'll be alright," she assured him.

Then Alvar's sword fell on the ground. His energy almost left him. They had been fighting for hours, it seemed to her. Arien attempted to run by his side when another Rider came in front of her. In his hand he held a long sword, dipped with poison. Arien took a step back; she forgot Erelom by Tilion's side. The Black Rider charged and she could do nothing but run. Then the Nine Riders screeched again, causing the elves and the hound to cringe. They cried with the voices of death, so terrible that none could endure it except for themselves.

Standing up and taking his sword, Alvar removed his helm. The Riders lined up in front of him. He turned back to look at his daughter.

"I fight, you run," he commanded.

Arien was taken aback. "No!"

"Yes, you will! That's an order! And a warrior follows orders from his superiors!" Alvar shouted.

"But that was a long time ago!" she insisted. "I'm not a warrior!"

"Not yet!"

Arien was surprised; Alvar was really supporting her this time. It seemed like only years ago when Alvar insisted her to stay home and do chores. But now he was ordering her to be a warrior. It still wasn't late to make a difference.

"Leave now!" Alvar shouted again.

It was Tilion who moved. Despite his injuries and bleeding neck and arm, he picked up Arien and turned his heel. Arien struggled. It took a while for Tilion to finally take her on his back. With that the wolfhound pounced away, his rear facing Alvar. He then turned back to the Riders. But they mounted their dark steeds and ran after the pair. They wouldn't let anyone leave Dol Guldur alive. Alvar panicked at the sight of them coming after his daughter. He ran behind them, waving his arms and panting heavily.

"Look out! Behind you!" he exclaimed.

This caused Tilion to turn around. Four of the Nine Riders were already a few feet away from them. But Alvar used all his energy to catch up with them. He ran and stopped between the Riders and Arien. The Black Riders stopped and waited. Then one by one, they dismounted their steeds, holding their terrible blade tightly as they approached Alvar. He held his ground, sword pointing towards the Riders. Arien and Tilion only waited and watched behind; Arien was with fear.

The Riders went beside Alvar but he made no attempt to fight back. Two Riders held him by the shoulders and forced him to kneel on the ground, facing Arien. One Rider held Alvar by his nape, making sure he couldn't move. Another one went in front of them; Arien deduced that he was the leader of the Riders, the Witch-King. In his hands he held the Morgul blade, aiming at Alvar's left shoulder. Alvar sighed deeply, his eye never leaving Arien's.

A tear fell from Arien's left eye. She knew how this was going to end. Alvar looked at her, a weak smile he gave her one last time. The Rider held up his blade high in the air and slashed. Alvar gave out a loud gasp of surprise and pain. The blade pierced his left shoulder, all the way down to his heart. Arien watched as blood poured from his chest and his clothes darken. His fresh wound began to darken too as the poison spread throughout his body. The Rider took out his blade from Alvar's chest forcefully, causing him to wince in pain again.

"You will always have my love, Arien."

Then the Rider slashed Alvar again, on the right shoulder this time. That was when Tilion howled in grief, indicating the death of his master. Arien fell silent; tears trickled from her eyes as she watched Alvar's lifeless body lie on the floor. Fresh blood pooled around his corpse.

"You… can't…"

It was all she could say. Arien felt weak; her legs could fail her anytime. She felt like crying her heart out, but she couldn't, not yet. She took a step forward, extending an arm to her dead father. Tears continued to pour; her clothes began getting damp. _"Ada…"_

Tilion ran and picked up his mistress before she could reach Alvar and the Riders. He quickly sprang away and unheeded the pain lingering in his arm. Arien did not struggle; instead she buried her face on his fur and cried. The Riders went to their steeds once more and followed after them. Thunderous hooves came from behind them which caused Tilion to run even faster. He leapt from the fortress then back to the forest, steering southwards. He didn't return to their camp. They left their belongings there, but not the important ones.

Tilion ran as the Riders were closing in on them. Then, faint light came from the trees. Tilion ran for it and soon, he found himself out of the dark forest and into a grassy plain. He looked back for the Riders, and they stopped, unwilling to come after them in the light. The wolfhound was relieved but continued to run, determined to find a safe place for his mistress to stay in. He felt her tears damping his fur, but he didn't mind. With another loud howl, Tilion signaled Arien the sight of another forest.

* * *

**Next Chapter Preview: **Arien and Tilion arrive in a place they never had been. Its residents are supposed to take them as prisoners. Soon, Tilion collapses and Arien can lose him anytime soon.


	8. Lothlórien

Rise of the Fallen: Chapter 8 – Lothlórien

Arien felt pain on her back and thighs. It had been hours since they had left the borders of Greenwood. She lifted her head up, her face still covered with dried tears. All she saw was a grassy plain, ever stretching in all directions. Arien narrowed her eyes; she could see a forest up ahead. She had never been on that particular forest before, as Alvar never let her leave his sight. She went sorrowful at the thought of him. Choking another upcoming sob, she buried her face on Tilion's fur. The wolfhound never stopped running despite of his injuries. Then they reached the bank of a river and from what Arien could guess, it was Anduin the Great River.

Still Tilion did not stop. Arien held on tight as Tilion prepared to jump. He did and landed safely on the other side of the river, continuing to run. It was when they entered the forest. Tilion stopped short under Arien's command. Arien cautiously walked further inside, not knowing what kind of people or creatures would welcome them. Her hound stayed by her side, walking limply as his arm began to fail him and pain started to occur once again from his wound.

"Now, where are we?" came her question to herself.

As quickly as they entered the said forest, its residents started to appear out of the tress and circled around them. They held spears in front and archer were behind them. Arien was surprised, completely falling off her guard. Many Elves surrounded them, twenty or maybe even more. Comprehending the situation, Arien carefully held up her hands while Tilion bared his fangs, growling menacingly at their attackers. Then an Elf came in front of Arien. He wore leather armor, gauntlets and a grey hood. Arien noticed his golden-colored hair, which was rare for Silvan Elves.

"Who might you be? And where have you came from?" asked the Elf.

The guards closed in on her. Arien felt her breath becoming shorter as the guards went closer. Tilion's growl was heard even more. Some guards took a step back or two while some pointed their spears closer to the hound, almost touching his silver fur. Arien looked back, worried of Tilion. And then he fell on the ground with a loud thud. Tilion lay on the floor, motionless. She had completely forgotten about his wound. Arien attempted to run by his side but the guards stopped her.

Thinking that the lady does not understand the Common Speech, the Elf asked again.

"_Man i eneth gîn? Mi van dorthog?" _(S._ '_What is your name? Where do you live?')

Arien glared at him. If Tilion dies, she knew who to blame and who to come after. The golden-haired Elf walked around, his dark eyes never leaving Arien's blue-grey ones. Then he turned his gaze to the fallen wolfhound. The creature did not move nor emit any sound. He was dead. The Elf turned back to Arien.

"_Asca,"_ he said again. (S. 'Hurry')

Arien glared at him. The Elf fell silent for a moment. Then he nodded and turned to his guards. He gestured for them to go back from their posts as the guards grabbed Arien by her arms and shoulder and followed their leader. Other guards came by a cart and lifted Tilion's body. Four Elves it took to pull the cart and to follow the others. Arien, on the other hand, was silent and watched as they passed trees. The trees shone golden under the light and she was captivated by its sheer beauty. Although every once in a while, Arien would turn back to see how Tilion was doing. The hound laid still and quiet. She worried greatly.

Then they arrived on a green hill covered with countless trees. The leader of the Elves marched silently and swiftly. They passed a few other Elves, clothed in silver and white. They shone also under the light and most were of golden and dark haired. Some Elves would stop and greet the guards, but others fixed their eyes on Arien. She felt insecure, wanting to crawl away or be left invisible. The guards stopped in front of a house of silver and gold.

Arien shifted her head to have a better view of the house. A silver-haired Elf was in front; his raiment was as silver as his hair. His eyes were dark and Arien could tell that he was already of thousands of years old. The guards bowed low before him.

"My Lord, we have come by a trespasser from the North. A young lady I could tell and she spoke not when questioned. She was accompanied by a gigantic wolfhound, of which was already stowed away in a cart. What would you have me do with the hound?" said the leader.

"My Lord!" Arien exclaimed from behind. She was freed from the grasps of the wardens. She immediately went in front of the Lord and fell to her knees. Bowing to him, Arien said: "My Lord, I beg of you, heal my friend. I will gladly come to prison, just save my friend."

The Lord merely turned his gaze to Arien. Then turning back to the guard in front of him he said: "Take the wolfhound and see if he could be healed. As for our _guest_, leave her now under my care and be back on your posts. Thank you, Haldir."

Haldir bowed. He commanded his wardens to leave and take Tilion away. Arien stood up slowly and watched as the wardens strode off. She turned back to see the Lord behind her, smiling thoughtfully. She nodded as her thanks to the Lord.

The Lord smiled again. "Arien Silevril, would you come with me? I shall take you to a place where you could stay." With that the Lord left, leading her towards the fortress. Arien followed quietly, wondering why he knew her name. Then the Lord spoke again: "I am Celeborn, and to me you should not be wary, young one. Welcome to Caras Galadhon, the heart of Lothlórien."

* * *

"Haldir," came a clear voice.

The said Elf stopped, turned and bowed at his caller. "Yes, my Lady?"

"What has become of the wolfhound? And how did you come by it?" the Lady asked, gesturing her hands towards the said fallen hound.

Haldir looked back for a while and faced the lady again. "He was wounded and Lord Celeborn asked us to take him to a healer. His mistress stayed in Caras Galadhon under the care of the Lord himself." The Lady nodded thoughtfully and slowly. She stared at Tilion's motionless figure for a long while. At length, she turned her gaze back to Haldir.

"Take the hound to my courtyard," she said gently. "I'll take care of him." She turned around to return to the said courtyard, but then she stopped and looked back. "And Haldir, please take his mistress there when she's ready." She completely left, her white raiment following after her.

* * *

"This is where you may stay while you're here," said Celeborn, opening a door wide enough for Arien to see. "Everything is already set for you: clothes, shoes, bed and other supplies that you may need."

Lord Celeborn went inside the fairy-lighted room. Arien followed silently. The room was of silver and golden lights provided the room with enough light. The pillars of the room were carven with flowers and birds, and vines found its way around the pillars. By the western side of the room, there was a bed, white and silver. A blanket was drape above it and the pillows were of white as well. There was a wardrobe just beside it, and a table stood by it, accompanied with a mirror. The room was open as it had no walls to support it, only pillars.

"How do you like it?" asked Celeborn.

But Arien did not speak. She only placed her Fëanorian lamp on top of the table.

Celeborn nodded. "Well, I'll be off now. See to it that you rest, Arien." He made his way out and shut the door behind him.

When he finally left, Arien sighed deeply and looked around again. She ran a finger across the sheets of the bed then went to peek outside. Many Elves were below and she watched them. Turning around, Arien opened the wardrobe. It revealed many dresses, mostly colored white, grey and blue. Arien picked a white one that she fancied the design and laid it on the bed. She took off her armor and began to clean herself with a cloth and water. When she was done, Arien put on the dress and picked a pair of flesh-colored light shoes to match the dress. She then sat in front of the mirror and grabbed a brush. It was a silent room and it became more silent when Arien did not speak. She only brushed her messy hair and sighed when she was done.

A soft knock came by the door. A handmaid stood by the doorway and bowed at the sight of her. Arien stood up and approached the handmaid.

"My lady Arien," said the handmaid. "Dinner is ready downstairs."

The handmaid immediately left and Arien followed her. She held up the front of her dress a little, to avoid getting tripped on the stairs. It would be extremely embarrassing if she did. When they were finally down, Arien saw a long table. Food was set and it varied between fruits, vegetables and meat. There were also cups, both filled with wine and water. Celeborn sat on the head of the table, obviously waiting for her to sit. Arien turned her heel and quickly sat by his left.

"Please enjoy dinner," said Celeborn with a smile. "It has been prepared for you."

Arien did not dare to refuse. She was terribly hungry, due to the fact that she hadn't ate since they left East Bight. She took a few slices of meat and a plate of vegetables and began to eat. Celeborn watched her for only a few seconds, and then began to eat on his own. Silvan elves played their instruments while Arien and Celeborn ate. Handmaids stood by in case their Lord needed something. It was a silent and peaceful dinner for both of them; Arien remembered the dinners she had with her own father.

"You've come from a long journey," said Celeborn. Arien simply nodded. "You should really be at ease, Arien. I mourn for your loss," he continued to say.

Arien stopped and glared.

"How did you know?" she asked.

"It was clearly evident in your eyes, and I feared Alvar would do it if he ever found out," he replied, drinking water from his golden cup. "Blame not yourself Arien. Alvar left in peace knowing that his daughter was safe."

"Yes, but it is hard to accept. How could a daughter accept the fact that her father is dead? I cannot go back to Greenwood without my father, not ever. I know how this ends, and I'm not sticking around to watch!" Her tears came.

Celeborn shook his head. "I've heard many stories; some had a sorrowful and hard start, others had blissful ones. Keep this in mind: Stories stay with us forever and they always have a happy ending. You are still halfway through your story or maybe it had barely begun. Perhaps you should watch and see, how you will decide what course you should take." He placed a palm on her shoulder and Arien looked up, tears still on her eyes. Celeborn smiled at her. "You have a lot to learn."

After a few more minutes, Haldir arrived behind the Lord and bowed, despite not being seen.

"Yes, Haldir?" asked Celeborn, drinking from his cup again.

"Her Ladyship had requested an audience with Lady Arien," he said.

Celeborn nodded. "Yes, of course. I'll see you later, Arien."

She stood up and bowed. Arien gave Haldir a quick glance as he turned around and led her away. She clasped her hands behind her and followed Haldir, like a faithful dog would do to his master. Their walk was silent.

"Lady Arien, I regret that we had such a hard start. But let me introduce myself properly: My name is Haldir, leader of the marchwardens here and I welcome you in Lórien." He gave her a slight nod as he walked.

Arien nodded. She refused to talk. They reached the courtyard, with Haldir bowing again before completely leaving her.

"I shall be off now. If you need me just call," Haldir said then left.

* * *

Arien entered the courtyard. Flowers and bushes were about her; the floor was topped with grass and light came from the lamps. She looked around in amazement; Lothlórien and Greenwood were extremely different, but both were beautiful. She looked around once more, not knowing what to find in the courtyard. Then she reached a flight of steps. It was only a few and it led further down the yard. Arien lifted her skirt again as she descended, her feet lightly touching the floor. When she was already down, she saw benches and flowers still.

On the far side of the yard, Arien could see a white figure that had her back in front of her, looking like it was petting something. She narrowed her eyes to see who it was, and then a furry and silver head perked up from the figure's lap. Arien gasped at the sight: It was Tilion.

The wolfhound quickly stood up and ran towards her. Arien smiled at him and hugged Tilion by the neck. Tears of joy fell from her eyes to know that her friend was saved. Tilion let out a pleased sound as he wagged his tail.

"Tilion! You're alright," Arien said.

But Tilion only licked her cheek affectionately. Arien hugged him again. From her peripheral vision, she saw the figure stand up and watched them. Arien broke away from the embrace as she composed herself and looked at the Lady in front of her.

Her hair was golden and her eyes blue; her raiment was white, like Arien wore and a smile she welcomed Arien. The latter immediately bowed despite her curiosity of the Lady.

"I am glad to have you here again, Arien Silevril," said the Lady. "I am Galadriel, known to others as the Lady of the Woods. You are safe here and I am glad of your arrival."

Arien blinked in surprise. Galadriel was a strangely familiar name to her.

"Have we met?" she asked.

Galadriel smiled. "I believe we have," she approached Arien, "back when this was still new." The Lady touched Arien's left eye gently. She flinched. Galadriel smiled at her and continued, "Long was your journey from here to Greenwood, Silevril. Tell me, what has become of your father? Never would Alvar let his daughter journey on her own."

"My father was lost."

Galadriel's smile turned to a frown. She said no word, but instead, went to a basin filled with water which was located near the stairs. Arien and Tilion followed after the Lady and watched as she grab a pitcher of water and pour its contents down to the basin. Light flickered on the basin and the three of them were silent.

"The Mirror of Galadriel shows all that was done: past, present and future. Alvar went there, didn't he? He ventured the darkness of Dol Guldur and darkness fell upon him. He had placed his own daughter in peril. What was he thinking?" said Galadriel, sounding as if she was talking to herself.

Arien looked at the basin; a vision started to occur. She went even closer and watched.

"The flight in Dol Guldur," whispered Galadriel.

The Mirror showed it: _Alvar entering the fortress, a sword was in his hands as he looked around, investigating every little thing. Every once in a while, he would hear strange noises from deep within. Then he straightened himself and went inside._

The Mirror showed no more, but voices could be heard.

"_Alvar…"_ came a sharp and careful whisper. _"Alvar… Teldafin__w__ë…. Tolo hí …. Aica umbar… Nairë… Alvar…."_

It was the end. Galadriel sighed and looked at Arien.

"I ask of you to stay here in Lothlórien. You may do anything you want, but do not leave the safety of the forest," Galadriel turned her heel and climbed up the stairs.

"You're starting to sound just like my father," Arien replied sternly which caused the Lady to look back.

"_Please bear with me. It is for your own good,"_ Galadriel spoke with her mind.

With this Arien grumbled and followed Lady Galadriel out of the courtyard and back to the fortress.

* * *

**Meaning:**

"_Alvar…"_ came a sharp and careful whisper. _"Alvar… Last Fin__w__ë…. Come here …. Bad luck… Lament… Alvar…."_

**Next Chapter Preview: **Erelom is lost. Arien is in a state of panic.


	9. The March Wardens

Rise of the Fallen: Chapter 9 – The March Wardens

"_Erelom you will be called, the Iron-hide, and you shall fight with my daughter when the time comes. Now you stay hidden, and wait until my daughter slays her first kill with you," whispered Maedhros to the weapon. He held a cloth and wiped the sword with it. Then Maglor his brother entered his room._

"_Maedhros," he whispered. "We need you in the battlement."_

* * *

Arien woke up from her reverie. It was long, she guessed. She never had a good long rest after they left Greenwood. She sat up from _her_ bed and stretched her arms. A loud yawn she did which caused the wolfhound lying on the mattress on the floor to lift its head up. He perked his ears and instantly wagged his tail. He stood up and placed his head on top of his mistress' lap. He was as big as a Warg, Arien thought. She patted his head and yawned again. Light came outside. It was already morning. She could hear the Silvan elves downstairs. She stood up and looked out. It was indeed and pleasant morning. Arien picked up her light shoes and wore it. Then she brushed her hair and adorned it with a blue lily.

"There. I think we're all set," Arien said to herself which earned a low soothing sound.

Arien looked around her room. Everything seemed to be in order, except for something. Something was not there, something exceedingly important. Arien thought for a while. Then she gasped which made Tilion flinch from where he laid. Her armor was missing: suit, cloak, helm and all. She immediately crawled on the floor and rummaged on the drawers, the wardrobe, and even under the bed. There was nothing. Then she remembered the most important thing: Erelom.

"It should be around here somewhere! I know I placed it here before! With my armor that is! But where is my armor?" She threw away the sheets of her bed and looked behind the tables. Nothing. _"Rhaich! Massë nát? Á ricë amaricië!"_

Tilion rolled his eyes. Despite being a hound, he understood the situation. But what was more interesting, was that Arien already mixed up both Sindarin and Quenya due to her panic. She was always like that, mixing Sindarin and Quenya in one sentence or phrase. Tilion thought it was only natural for her or maybe it was due to her upbringing. Alvar and Arien spoke in Quenya way back in Greenwood, but when socializing with King Thranduil and the Wood-elves, Sindarin was used.

She ran around the room in search for her sword. She found nothing. She was in a state of panic. The handmaid yesterday came across her mind. What if that maid got her armor? Quickly she opened the door and whistled for Tilion to come. The hound sprang to his feet and followed his mistress down. He found her looking frantically around for the maid. Arien remembered her face.

"_Tye!" _she blurted out. "No! I mean… You! _Larya!_ No, that's _dartha!_"

The handmaid stopped from her tracks and looked around. She saw Arien, followed by Tilion, pushing few elves out of her way and finally reaching her. She panted and asked: "Have you seen my sword? It was with my armor yesterday!"

The handmaid thought for a moment. Then lifting her index finger, she said: "Yes, I remember. I surrendered it over to the marchwardens who camped usually on the North, my Lady."

Arien nodded. _"Hannon le."_

She whistled for Tilion and he crouched down to let his mistress ride his back. When she was set, Tilion ran fast towards the northern direction. The Silvans dodged out of the way, terrified of being caught or hit by the huge wolfhound. Arien buried her face on Tilion's fur and secretly hoped she wasn't late.

They arrived there after a few seconds. The marchwardens looked at them, curiously and warily. As Arien dismounted Tilion, she felt eyes piercing her. It made her extremely comfortable. Some wardens took a hold of their weapons: bow, spear and sword. Still Arien walked slowly, watching the wardens on the corner of her eye. She heard Tilion growl, giving the wardens a warning. She climbed a flight of stairs, as the Silvans made their houses on top of trees, much like the elves in Greenwood.

When she was already upstairs, more elves looked at her. One of them pointed an arrow towards her while one other a sword. Arien gasped as Tilion immediately shielded his mistress and let out a loud snarling sound. The elves flinched and all of them grabbed their weapons. But Arien was silent. She patted Tilion's back softly and looked around the room. She looked for any signs of her armor and sword.

On top of a table, she saw them: armor, cloak and sword. She smiled as she tried to grab it but one Silvan grabbed it away from her reach. He immediately dropped the sword as soon as he got the hold of it. The sword clattered on the floor as the golden-haired elf clutched his right hand tightly and cringed in pain. His comrades went around him in an instant. Arien was confused; instead, she picked up her sword and hugged it. She examined its edges, hilt and hand guards: everything was alright. Then she fixed her eyes back to the elf in pain.

"_Nîdh!" _the elf exclaimed. But Arien did not know why he was hurt; the blade didn't cut him at all.

Then Haldir came. He parted the curtains covering the camp and was surprised to Arien there. he gave her a queer look but his attention was drawn to his brother. He gently pushed the other wardens on the way and placed a palm on his brother's shoulder.

"_Man te?"_ he asked.

"_Im dosta,"_ whispered his brother.

"It was because of her sword!" exclaimed one of the wardens, pointing an accusing finger on Arien.

Tilion immediately snarled again, his fangs bared in front of the Elves. Arien was silent again and it took a while for her to say anything.

"I don't understand," said she, "Erelom doesn't burn me."

Haldir shook his head. "How did it burn my brother then?"

"Erelom burns its wielder that is not a member of the House of Fëanor," came a voice between them.

Everyone gasped except Arien who was only silent in surprise. It was Tilion who spoke, whose snarl left his face and was calm again. He sat down and his figured towered over the elves. They were speechless for a while, very surprised to hear the wolfhound speak. At length Arien laughed and patted his head.

"It's been a while since I heard your voice, Tilion. But was it true? Does Erelom really burn?" she asked him.

Tilion nodded. "Fëanor made Erelom like the Silmarils, burning its wielder whenever he doesn't meet the work's expectation. Just like how Silmaril would burn those of evil, Erelom would burn if its wielder wasn't from his line."

Arien nodded slowly, finally learning another thing. She looked back to Haldir's brother, who has finally calmed down. Then Haldir himself approached her. "Let's go outside," he said.

She followed him, fastening Erelom to Tilion's torso. They stood on a attached on the tree, overlooking the forest. The wardens nodded before Haldir before going back to their posts. Arien looked around; Lothlórien was much like Greenwood. She missed her home; the one she lived throughout her whole life. She waited for Haldir to talk but it seemed impossible. They stayed in silence for a while.

"About your brother," she started to say out of awkward silence, "I'm sorry for him. I did not know."

But Haldir turned to her and smiled, "Don't worry. He will be alright. And his name is Orophin."

Arien was surprised at the name. "Orophin? Like the Elvenking of Greenwood?"

Haldir laughed. "Yes, exactly. You seem very interested and proud of Greenwood. Tell me about it." It was when Haldir walked closer to her and stood beside her. He waited for her reply; she fell silent, for she was thinking of the right words to say.

"Yes, well Greenwood, as we all know, is a very vast forest and Silvan elves live in it. But the King they have right now is one of the Sindar, while some were Noldor, like me and my father. Like here, Silvans build their houses on top of the trees; with the exception of us, since we had our houses standing on the ground." Arien narrated, but she paused. She felt embarrassed, talking on and on in front of Haldir whom she barely knew. Arien held her tongue for a while. But Haldir spoke to her again.

"What about your military units?" he asked, completely interested.

"Well," she murmured again, "Instead of march-wardens, we have soldiers and guards. Our military unit consisted of an army whose responsibilities include guarding the Elvenking's halls, protecting the citizens, patrolling the area, and of course, be ready for war. My father led them; he was their general. He remained like that for thousands of years and the King was contented."

"I see," Haldir whispered. He turned towards the stairs and gestured his hand about it. "Come, he said, "I'll show you around." They both climbed down as Tilion closely followed behind them. Haldir strode off as Arien followed him.

"Here, we have march-wardens; but we also have the Galadhrim warriors, the guard of Lothlórien. As wardens, our patrols only operated in small groups, as you can see." Haldir showed her his wardens, scattered and few in number. "We defend the outer borders of the forest from Orcs coming down from the Mountains or across the rivers." They continued to walk until they reach the banks of Celebrant. From that point Haldir turned westwards which leads back to Caras Galadhon. "I lead the wardens and the Galadhrim as well. But we seldom fought, for we don't seek open war."

"In Greenwood," Arien said, "my father would always go to the army's camp and spend the whole day there, training his soldiers. Orcs would usually attack the borders of the forest, and the army was always ready to face them. Just like here, we don't seek war."

"Greenwood is ruled by King Thranduil, yes?" asked Haldir.

She nodded her head. "That's right. Have you met him?"

He shook his head. "No, but I do wish to meet him; and your father, of course. I heard tales of his bravery and his alliance with many Elves and Men. They have seen many wars, do they not?"

Arien smiled. "They sure did."

Caras Galadhon then came to their sights. Light started to shine and music started to be heard. Arien touched the hilt of her sword and felt its carven designs. Tilion nudged her arm; she almost forgot him. Smiling to her friend, she ran her hand on his head down to his back. Then they entered the beautiful gate of Caras Galadhon: adorned with jewels of silver and gold, with lights shining like the sun. Haldir stopped by the gate and Arien turned to face him.

"I thank you for the wonderful conversation, my Lady Arien," he said as he took her hand to his and kissed it lightly. Arien gave him a sincere smile and a small curtsy.

"See you, Haldir," she said.

The warden placed a hand on his chest and bowed slightly. "Definitely, my Lady." He turned and headed back to the camp.

Arien also left. Followed by Tilion, she was about to make her way back to her room when the Lord and the Lady called her for breakfast.

* * *

The next day, Arien woke up early. Doing her usual routine: making herself presentable enough, she quickly grabbed her sword and run out of the door like lightning. The loud thud made by the wooden door jolted Tilion from his slumber. His head darted to the door and in an instant; he knew his mistress was gone. Standing up and stretching, he yawned, his mouth went very wide. He followed after her to make sure she stays out of trouble.

Arien ran, her light shoes almost worn out. But she didn't worry about that. As she ran, Arien fastened the sword by her waist and her run was slowed down, due to the sword's weight. It made her exhausted so easily. To her luck, Tilion caught up to her and gave her a ride. She asked for Tilion to take her to the warden's camp. She asked Lady Galadriel the day before if she could come with the wardens. With this the Lady responded:

"_Go where your heart bids you to; be aware of your surroundings and be not a burden for our wardens. I shall send the word of your coming to their camp tomorrow. For now, be at ease and finish your breakfast."_

She could already see the camps. Tilion halted in front of the camps and Arien dismounted him. The Silvan wardens recognized her yet they still gave her a confused look. Despite being told of her coming, the wardens looked almost unaware. Arien gulped, the wardens made her feel greatly uncomfortable. Looking around for Haldir, she saw someone who was not him. She recognized him, the Elf from yesterday. Narrowing her eyes, she remembered: Orophin.

Then Haldir came down from the stairs, talking from one of his warden who had the same golden hair as Haldir has. She watched them talk and couldn't help but overhear some words. But she did not understand; she could only hear the other Elf's name: Rumil. When Rumil left, Haldir turned and was rather surprised to see Arien there. He looked at his wardens who gave him looks of disapproval.

"Lady Arien," Haldir spoke.

"Did the word reach you? Of my coming, that is. I already told Lady Galadriel yesterday. I'm sure it would have gotten to you by now," Arien said sternly. She knew well these wardens do not like her around.

"Yes, I've heard. But my Lady…" Haldir trailed off, unsure of what to say. Yet Arien waited, and she gave him a look that made him nervous. He doesn't want to disappoint her. "Well," he said again, "I don't suppose it's good for you to stay and become a warden. Our duties are absolute. If something ever happens to you, I will have to blame myself."

Arien fixed her gaze to the ground and slowly nodded. Haldir regretted for refusing her offer, but he only worried about her safety. Without words, she turned around to climb on Tilion's back when she heard a voice from behind both her and Haldir.

"She doesn't belong here; a lady like her should stay indoors."

Arien took this as an insult to herself and her status as a lady. She quickly turned around, walked past Haldir, took out her sword, grabbed the warden's collar and pointed her sword by his neck. Everyone fell silent. The warden, called Rilitar, was silent and breathed heavily.

"_Man ta né?! Ma alahanda nát?!"_ Arien shouted at him. Her hands her were shook with anger. No one understood her, for she spoke in Quenya so fluently.

Haldir immediately got a hold of her right hand and lowered the sword down. Arien looked at him as tears started to fall from her eyes. Then she returned Erelom back to its scabbard and sighed deeply. She looked back to Rilitar, who was still dumbfounded of what she did. She gave him one last glare before leaving with Tilion.

When she was gone, everybody gathered around Rilitar and asked if he was okay. It was long before he could speak again and he held his neck lightly; he almost lost his life. At length he said: "What fiery temper. I shouldn't have said that." Everyone, including Haldir, nodded their heads in agreement.

* * *

Arien rode back to Caras Galadhon. The Silvan greeted her but she ignored them. Then Lord Celeborn called out to her.

"Silevril," said he, "where have you gone so early?"

"I made an honest mistake."

* * *

He paced to and fro. With his arms across his chest and one hand on his chin, he paced back and forth, left and right, here and there, one and two. Time slowly passed and the King grew tired of his son's seemingly endless march. He drank first from his cup of wine and said: "Stop, Legolas. You're making me dizzy."

Legolas stopped short and looked at his father, who sat comfortably on his throne with a small table by his side. Galion the butler was there, who served the King his wine. The Prince gave his father a queer look and went up his throne.

"You worry too much," said King Thranduil, taking another sip.

Legolas gave a heavy sigh. "How could I not worry? They've been gone for 20 days, _Ada_. Normally, for someone like Alvar, he'd be back within a week. But it's been weeks already. And Arien came with him! What if something happened to them? What if they were held captives? Or trapped? Lost?" Legolas paced back and forth again. He was like this for what seemed like forever to Thranduil who always watched him.

"They'll be back. For someone who knows Alvar very well, he will be back with Arien. There is no way he'd lead his own daughter into danger," said Thranduil. But deep inside, he worried as well. They have been gone for far too long. Alvar was never late. Twenty days was too much for them to be gone. Thranduil secretly wished nothing bad happened to them.

Then there was a horn, which is not an Orc-horn. The Elven-guard entered, fully armored, holding their banners up. Galanther led them, Alvar's lieutenant. He bowed. King Thranduil organized a search party for them; there were five groups and each had fifteen warriors, well-armed and experienced. They patrolled the borders of Greenwood: the rivers and mountains; but still no sign of either Alvar or his daughter Arien. This made Legolas extremely worried.

"I have brought you grave news, my King," said Galanther. "General Alvar and Lady Arien are still nowhere to be found. We've searched the Grey Mountains this time, but no sign of them."

Thranduil frowned and sighed. He placed his forehead on his palm and fell silent. Then Legolas his son spoke: "_Ada_, let me go and search for them. I believe I will have better tidings than the search party."

But the King refused. "No Legolas. You will stay here."

"_Ada_, please. If not, just let me come with the search party. I want to help."

"My orders are absolute. If I say no, Legolas, then that means no. You will not leave these Halls nor will you leave my sight. Don't try to escape," said King Thranduil. He finally stood up from his chair and his stern voice sounded clear in his Halls. Everyone was silent again, especially Legolas. Thranduil refused for his son to come. Because if he did, Thranduil will not know where would Legolas go or when he would be back. As a father, he worried about his son. He wouldn't let him venture out on his own. And knowing Legolas, Thranduil knew he would disobey him, especially now that it concerned Arien.

The Prince lowered his head in defeat.

"Yes, my Lord."

* * *

**Meanings: [s] Sindarin, [q] Quenya, [Ñq] Noldorin Quenya**

_[s] Rhaich! – _Curses!

_[q] Massë nát? _– Where are you?

_[q]_ _Á ricë amaricië! _– Try harder!

_[q] Tye! – _You!

_[q] Larya! – _Wait!

_[s] Dartha! – _Wait!

_[s] Hannon le – _Thank you

_[s]_ _Nîdh! – _It hurts!

_[s] Man te? – _What is it?

_[s] Im dosta – _I'm burned

_[q] Man ta né?! – _What was that?!

_[q]_ _Ma alahanda nát? – _Are you stupid?

**Next Chapter Preview: **Years later, Galadriel holds an important meeting in Rivendell which requires Arien to come with her. There she meets many of her kin's allies, of which five of them caught her eyes.


End file.
